Life as I Knew It
by Mrs. Crocodile
Summary: Pansy Parkinson returns to school for her seventh year to find that everything has changed. The most jarring difference is the existence of Moonshyne Riddle, the new saviour of the wizarding world. Part parody, part AU.
1. Meeting Hermione Granger

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** When I say that this is part parody, I want it to be known that this is much better written and more thought out than "Flogging a Dead Dog." I put up that story because it assumed me to no end. This is a more serious endeavor.

Correction: "Flogging a Dead Dog" **_amused_** me to no end. Wow, it took me way too long to notice that. (I don't even know what "assumed me" means.)

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**Life as I Knew It**

**Chapter 1—Meeting Hermione Granger.**

The second Pansy Parkinson crossed the barrier onto Platform 9 and ¾, she instinctively felt that something was wrong. This was confirmed when she saw Hermione Granger. Hermione's hair had been straightened and she was wearing a short skirt and a tight shirt that showed too much midriff. Actually, from Pansy's point of view, any of Hermione's midriff was too much. So, Hermione had lost her mind; Pansy could accept that. Then her attention turned to Draco. She was shocked to see that he was coming back to school after what happened the year before. She was even more shocked to see him hanging all over a girl she had never seen before.

She was so wrapped up in the awkward display of affection in front of her that she didn't even see the new and definitely not improved Hermione walk up to her.

"Oh, my god. Like, I've never seen you around before. Are you, like, a new student?"

Pansy stopped herself from saying, "Get the hell away from me, Granger." She thought about what Hermione had just said. She just shook her head and gestured toward Draco's whore. "Who's that?"

"Oh my god, that's Draco Malfoy. He is, like, so hot."

Pansy decided to ignore all the things that were wrong with that statement. "No," she said slowly. "Not him, the green haired monstrosity standing with him."

"Oh my god, that's Moonshyne Kari-Ann Riddle. She's, like, Voldemort's daughter. And that makes her, like, the heir of Slytherin, or something. And that's, like, why her hair is, like, green and silver."

"You-Know-Who had a daughter? With whom?"

"Oh my god, I'm not—"

"Please, _please_ stop starting all your sentences with 'Oh my god.' It's really annoying."

Hermione looked taken aback. "Oh my god, that's really mean. Anyway, I don't exactly know who Moonshyne's mother is. All I know is she's Voldemort's daughter and Sirius Black's daughter and Dumbledore's granddaughter and Snape's cousin."

"How is that possible?"

"Oh, you know pure-blood's. Lots of inbreeding."

Pansy was starting to think this was all a joke, a very elaborate joke that spawned cooperation between Draco and Hermione. First of all, the Dark Lord could not possibly have a daughter. Second of all, though Pansy had spent years avoiding a conversation with Hermione, she had heard her speak in classes, and this person did not sound like Hermione. Considering all that, Pansy was not sure what motivated her to continue talking with Hermione. "What possessed Draco to return to school after what he did?"

Hermione leaned in closer. "Oh my god, what did he do?"

"He let Death Eaters loose in the school. You were there, Hermione."

"Oh, right." She gave a knowing nod. "What are Death Eaters?"

"Shut up, Hermione." Pansy turned toward the speaker. It took her quite a while to realize that the black clothed, body pierced girl with red hair streaked with black was Ginny Weasley. Ginny nodded toward Pansy but her eyes were focused on Draco and Moonshyne. "I'm Ginny. I'm a pure-blood."

"Pansy Parkinson. Likewise." She had a hard time not laughing. Ginny was wearing tight black jeans and a black halter-top. Her eyes were rimmed with a thick layer of black eyeliner and she had a pierced nose and eyebrow, not to mention several piercings on each ear. In truth, she looked ridiculous.

"I can't stand that bitch."

Pansy hoped she was talking about Moonshyne. If that was the case, she just might have misjudged the Weaselette. "I assume you're talking about the green-haired freak cuddling up to Draco."

"The one and only. She think she's so great because she defeated Voldemort."

Pansy's eyes grew wide. "She… How could she… What about Harry Potter?"

Hermione giggled. "Yeah, he did not handle it well when he was no longer the savior of the world. They broke up over it, actually."

Venom dripped from Ginny's voice. "Look at her, over there warping Draco into some sappy, poetry reciting queer."

Hermione continued to giggle. "I think he's sweet."

Pansy made a sound of disgust. "Don't tell me you have a thing for him, too, Ginny. What, do you have a Romeo and Juliet fetish?"

It wasn't until she turned all her hatred toward Pansy that Pansy realized this Ginny Weasley was a lot scarier than the one she had known before, and the old Ginny was no picnic.

"Draco and I are soulmates. Back when he was a proper Death Eater, before that thing got her hooks in him."

Pansy's eyes grew wide. "Are you a Death Eater?"

"I was, back when that meant something. Back when we could kill Mudbloods. No offense, Hermione."

Hermione smiled serenely. "None taken."

"Everyone in my family was a Death Eater."

"Are you trying to say that Arthur Weasley, the man who penned every piece of Muggle protection legislation for the last twenty years, was a Death Eater?"

"Yes, shocking, isn't it?"

Pansy started to laugh. "It's not possible. I've never even met your father and I know it's not possible."

Ginny shrugged and fiddled with her eyebrow ring. "So, Pansy, who are you?"

Pansy looked around, surveying the scene in front of her. "I don't exactly know."


	2. Meeting Daphne Greengrass

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Well, now that I've gotten such good reviews, I'm worried about disappointing you all. Which is not me fishing for more reviews, but me apologizing if you are disappointed. (It was the same thing with my other chaptered story. I was paranoid for at least seven chapters.)**  
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**Chapter 2—Meeting Daphne Greengrass**

Pansy excused herself from Hermione and Ginny's company. The world had clearly gone mad. Even if one were to ignore all the insanity, Pansy liked to think that in six years, Hermione had at least become aware of her existence. So, as she went off in search of a friend, Pansy had no illusions that it was possible no one else would remember her either.

Pansy did not want to start by walking up to Draco, especially not while he was with that Moonshyne person. It would be painful for her to see no spark of recognition on Draco's face, and Pansy thought it best to ease herself into that. She searched the crowd for a friendly Slytherin face. That was when she caught Daphne Greengrass staring at her. Pansy thought that might just be a good sign, so she walked up to Daphne.

Despite sharing a dorm for six years, Pansy and Daphne had never been particularly close. Right from the beginning of their first year, Pansy had been the _de facto_ leader of that year's Slytherin girls, and Daphne had been resistant to the idea of being led. She had spent the years in silent rebellion and slowly ostracized herself from the rest of the Slytherin girls. Pansy truly believed that Daphne had only herself to blame for all of it. It was not as though Daphne had shown that she had any leadership ability of her own. She was just blindly rebellious, and how was anyone supposed to respect that?

So, of all her dormmates, Daphne was her least favorite, but she was the only one Pansy saw. She would do in a pinch anyway, as Pansy had no doubt that if she was a part of this crazy world, Daphne would know who she was. She was at least relieved to see that Daphne seemed to be fairly normal. Daphne looked alarmed as Pansy approached her, and that dim hope that this would all turn out to be a mistake or elaborate joke faded.

Pansy took a defensive stance. "Why are you staring at me?"

Daphne looked around as if she hoped that Pansy was talking to someone else. "Who are you?" she whispered.

Pansy's heart sank. "I'm Pansy Parkinson. Are you saying that you've never heard of me?"

Something that looked like amusement flickered on Daphne's face. "I really haven't. And yet, you're too young to be a teacher and too old to be a new student."

Pansy shrugged. "We'll see."

They both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, neither saying anything. Pansy caught sight of Ron Weasley, which in turn made her think of Ginny and the "evil" Weasleys. Pansy then realized that the only people here that she had even partially befriended were Ginny and Hermione, who were absolutely the last two people with whom she had ever wanted to be friends. However, since saying "Do you want to be my friend?" to Daphne or any of her old friends seemed unbelievably pathetic, she was sort of stuck with them. Pansy felt only slightly less pathetic as she realized what she needed to do. There was, after all, no way she was going to ride to Hogwarts alone.

Pansy walked up to Hermione, who was stupid but nice. Even before she asked the question, she knew how the girl would respond. "Hermione, since you're really the only person I know, I was wondering if I could ride with you on the train."

"Oh my god." Hermione looked elated. "I love making new friends! This is going to be, like, the best year ever!"

Ginny was still standing nearby, and Hermione turned to her. "Did you hear? Pansy's going to ride with us on the train!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yay," she said without emotion.

Up to that point, Pansy had not stopped to consider that Hermione had other friends who would also be sharing a compartment with them. Pansy actually thought there was a chance she would like Ginny a lot, despite the crazy hair and clothes, but she was not sure how she felt about spending the entire trip with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She realized she was so close to becoming a Gryffindork.


	3. Meeting Draco Malfoy

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** My computer has been acting up in a myriad of ways, so updates may continue to be random for a while.

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**Chapter 3—Meeting Draco Malfoy**

Hermione showed Pansy to the train compartment she and her friends had already claimed. Pansy hoisted her trunk into the overhead section. Then Hermione told her to come back out to the platform.

"Why can't we just stay on the train?" Pansy asked.

"Because, Pansy, only losers hang out on the train before it's time to go. Come on." She gestured toward the exit.

Pansy checked her watch. It really was about time for the train to leave the station, but as she looked around, it was true that no one was aboard. When she stepped on the platform again, she noticed another oddity. There were no parents on Platform 9 and ¾, just masses of students. As a seventh year, she had not felt the need to have her parents escort her to the train, but it was odd that none of the younger students had anyone to send them off. Actually, this was no odder than everything else that had happened, she now reflected. Pansy decided to follow Hermione's lead for the time being.

Unfortunately, Hermione led her straight to Draco. For some reason he had been separated from Moonshyne. "Oh my god, Draco, you look super cute today."

Draco beamed at this compliment, which in and of itself was not entirely out of character. However, since the compliment had come from a Mudblood, Pansy did find his reaction peculiar. He preened and strutted like one of the peacocks his father kept at their manor. Well, maybe not quite like a peacock, but still, Pansy was disturbed.

"Thanks, Granger. You're looking pretty hot yourself."

Hermione blushed and stammered a string of "oh my gods" and "likes." It was fairly incoherent to Pansy, although she had not been listening that closely. After complimenting Hermione, if you could call it that, Draco had noticed Pansy for the first time. He looked her up and down in a way that made Pansy want to blush, too. Of course, Pansy had a history of appreciating attention from Draco, whereas Hermione did not.

"Who's your friend, Granger?" Draco asked without looking away from Pansy.

Hermione answered sweetly, not at all distressed by his shift in attention. Pansy saw that hearing her name meant nothing to him, but it was not as painful as she had feared. This was due to the fact that, even though he did not remember her, he clearly still had some feelings for her. Despite all the other changes, Pansy still had a chance with him. Ginny had said that he was a poetry-reciting queer, but that was only because of Moonshyne. Things were looking up.

Draco had never looked at her like this before. He seemed entranced by her beauty, which was strange because Pansy knew that she was not pretty. She snuck a glance at Hermione and knew that actually, if Pansy was honest with herself about her own physical flaws, Hermione was the more attractive of the two. Still, as they stood there, Draco only had eyes for Pansy.

While she was in this honest, objective mood, Pansy took the time to evaluate Draco's looks. She supposed she had always been aware that he could barely be considered cute by conventional standards. Though she was completely enamored with him, she now saw clearly that Draco was not by any means "super cute," and he was far too pale and pointy to be called "hot." Pansy had, of course, called Draco hot a number of times, but that had a lot to do with the fact that she believed he was going to grow up to look more like his father.

Draco extended his hand to her, and Pansy took it. "I'm Draco Malfoy, and it is a pleasure to meet you."

Pansy smiled. "Likewise," she said in a tone that was slightly flirtatious, but not too much so considering that he had a girlfriend. She knew her Draco very well, but the fact that everything else had changed so much made her a little reserved in dealing with this one.

"Parkinson? Haven't I heard of your family before?"

Pansy had no idea how to answer that. If she did not exist in this universe, what did that mean for her parents? In the chaos of it all, Pansy had not had the time to think about all the implications of this. How long was this going to continue? It hit Pansy for the first time that she might be stuck spending the rest of her life in a world where she had no history. "It's quite possible. We are pure-bloods."

Draco's eyes lit up. "Yes, I feel like I've met you before. Where have you been going to school?"

Pansy bit her lip. That was the first really difficult question she had been asked so far. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, Pansy was prevented from answering by the arrival of Moonshyne.

Up close, Moonshyne really had a terrifying beauty. First, there was just the fact that her green hair was supposed to be natural, which was terrifying enough. Also, her eyes were slits like a snake's. They were a startling shade of silver that did not occur in nature. Moonshyne had high well-defined cheekbones, and if it weren't for her hair, she would have had a regal look. At the arrival of Moonshyne, Draco gaze wandered back to his girlfriend and his interest in Pansy waned.

"It's time to get on the train, my sweet Draco." Moonshyne's voice sounded a bit like crystal tinkling, which Pansy found very irritating.

Draco turned and without a glance back, he followed Moonshyne onto the train.


	4. Meeting Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**  
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**Chapter 4—Meeting Harry Potter**

On the train, Pansy settled in uncomfortably next to Hermione. It was exactly as she had feared. Ginny sat on the other side of Hermione, next to the window, and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom sat across from the girls. They might not have known who she was, but Pansy had spent the last six years hating all these people, so it was a little awkward for her.

Harry did not much look like Harry as Pansy had known him. He had done something to his hair that made it stick straight up in spikes, and he no longer wore glasses. Also, he was wearing a shirt that said "Tommy Hilfiger" across it in large letters. Pansy wondered who Tommy was.

"So, Pansy, what brings you to Hogwarts so suddenly?" asked Ron, who looked the same as always, only stupider.

Pansy knew that she would hear this question many times, so she tried to form a reasonable answer. "Well, I know that it must seem odd, transferring schools for just my last year—"

"Oh, it's not odd at all," interrupted Neville. "We had a lot of transfer students last year." He paused. "I guess before that it would have seemed odd."

Pansy looked directly at Neville. "What changed last year?"

Neville just shrugged, so Harry answered the question. "It was the first school year after Voldemort was defeated. There were a whole bunch of foreign wizards… Actually they were mostly witches. Anyway, there were a lot of them who would have gone to Hogwarts if not for the looming threat of Voldemort. With him gone, they were free to transfer in. But you sound British, and that makes you different than them."

For the first time in a long time, the last thing Pansy wanted to do was talk about herself. "I am, but I was out of the country for a while. And actually, I never really heard how You-Know-Who was defeated."

"Do you want the long version or the short one?" asked Ginny, leaning forward.

"The long one, I guess."

Ginny sat back. "Then Harry better tell it."

Harry stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles. "It was in our fifth year. I was summoned to the Department of Mysteries; actually, we were all there. I'd had a vision, and I told Moonshyne about it. She's really in tune with Voldemort because she's his daughter. So she knew it was a trap, but she thought we should go anyway, because that would give us a chance to take a stab at killing Voldemort. And that seemed like a good enough plan.

"So, we all got to the Ministry and found the Prophesy Room. And we saw that there was a prophesy with my name on it, mine and Voldemort's. So we picked it up to see what was in it. Moonshyne thought that would be best. Then Death Eaters showed up out of nowhere. Ron and Ginny revealed themselves to be Death Eater spies."

At this, Ron smiled sheepishly and Ginny snorted.

"And we all fought, and Voldemort showed up eventually. He and Moonshyne were dueling in the Death Room, and he got arrogant. She got a spell in and he fell into the veil, which apparently means you die."

Pansy was fairly familiar with the broad facts of what happened in the Department of Mysteries that night because Draco's father had been arrested then. Over that subsequent summer, Pansy had actually heard his aunt Bellatrix recount the story of how she killed Sirius Black. It sounded a lot like the story of how Moonshyne killed Voldemort, but Pansy didn't say anything about that. "So, everyone really believes he's gone for good this time?"

"Yep," said Harry.

Pansy did not know how to feel about that. Technically, she had always supported the Dark Lord because that was what her parents and Draco did, yet she did not feel the least bit upset at the thought that he might be gone. "What makes you all so sure this time?"

For some reason, Pansy directed this question at Neville, who again shrugged and allowed Harry to answer for him. Pansy did not listen too closely to Harry's explanation, but she caught enough to know that he did not really give any concrete facts to back up this belief.

Pansy asked many more questions about the details of the Dark Lord's defeat, but most of the time the answers did not quite make sense. One thing that did ring loud and true was that Moonshyne, who was a year younger than Harry, had broken his heart. As Hermione had said when Pansy first met her, Harry was bitter about the fact that his girlfriend had stolen his thunder and become the wizarding world's new saviour.

Except for that one time early in the conversation, Neville did not utter a word. The conversation moved on to other topics, although thankfully not to Pansy's past, but Neville stayed silent. Several times Pansy made a point of addressing him and asking direct questions. He always just shrugged his shoulders and waited for someone else to speak. Pansy really could not speak as to whether this was normal for Neville, but she doubted very much that it was.

The entire length of the trip Pansy had waited for Ron and Hermione to excuse themselves and go to the prefects' cabin, but they never did. Pansy did not bother to remind them to do so because she did not want to be left alone in a compartment with Harry, Neville, and Ginny. She realized that was selfish, but she had never been accused of selflessness. Once they were in sight of the Hogsmeade station, Pansy finally brought it up.

"Oh, yeah," Hermione giggled.

The only reason Pansy mentioned it at all was because she wanted to know who had taken her place as Slytherin prefect. She decided to ask Ron who the other seventh year prefects were. She was afraid that Hermione would give her the life story of each person, and Ron did well, listing the names in quick succession. Pansy discovered that she had been replaced by Daphne Greengrass, which annoyed her to no end.

After getting off the train, the boys took one carriage up to the castle, and the girls rode in another one. Pansy decided that she much preferred spending time with Hermione and Ginny alone. She did not realize until he was gone how much Harry Potter had monopolized the conversation.


	5. Meeting Severus Snape

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**  
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Chapter 5—Meeting Severus Snape**

When their carriage arrived at the castle, Pansy saw Professor Snape standing beside Professor McGonagall. While McGonagall called for first years, Snape called for all transfer students, albeit much less enthusiastically. For a moment, Pansy quite forgot that she was considered a transfer student. She only remembered when Ginny nudged her and told her to go over to Snape.

It was quite a surprise to see Professor Snape back at school. Considering the fact that You-Know-Who was eliminated in her fifth year, Pansy supposed that here Snape had not killed Dumbledore, and thus would still be welcome. It was so frustrating that everything she knew was wrong.

The first thing Pansy noticed about Professor Snape was his hair. It was no longer greasy. In fact, it seemed to beg to be touched. Pansy groaned when she saw that. Could no one just stay the way she remembered them? If Snape was now washing his hair, where would the madness end?

Pansy stood in front of the professor, and he pointedly ignored her. After everyone but the first years had filed through the large doors, Snape smiled down at Pansy. "Only one this year?"

Pansy nodded awkwardly. "Looks like it."

"Well, then, we're off to see Professor Dumbledore. He's the headmaster here."

Pansy followed Snape, surprised that they were heading away from the Great Hall. She wondered why Dumbledore was not at the welcoming feast.

"So," said Snape after a long silence. "What's your story?"

"Oh, I don't much care to tell it. Not to be rude, Professor, but I'm afraid I'll just have to repeat the whole thing to the headmaster."

Snape did not seem to find her rude at all. "You're British! How delightful."

Pansy remembered that Harry had also said that being a British transfer student set her apart from all the witches the year before. Pansy had never known of a foreign student studying at Hogwarts. Sure, Blaise Zabini had been born in Italy and lived there for a couple years until his father died, but he had lived in England for nine years before starting at Hogwarts. The Patil twins' parents were from India, but both girls had been born and raised in England. Pansy wondered exactly how many foreign students there were at the school now.

Snape continued. "I think I've been the rude one. I should have introduced myself. I am Professor Severus Snape. I teach Potions."

Pansy had spent years wishing Professor Snape was a little more accessible. He had been civil enough with his Slytherins, but he was always a bit standoffish. As her Head of House, Pansy was expected to go to him with any problems she had, and that was always awkward. Now, here he was, being perfectly pleasant, and it was creeping Pansy out. She had also wished on occasion that he would have better hygiene, but on him this clean hair was a bit unnerving as well.

Snape turned to look at her. "You look to be past fifth year. Will you be taking Potions this year?"

Pansy wasn't sure, but she thought the professor had just leered at her. "Er, I am actually a seventh year. My name is Pansy Parkinson, by the way. I got an E in Potions on my O.W.L.s, and I know that… At my school, the professor would not take students who hadn't made an O."

That was not strictly true, because while Snape required an O, Slughorn would have taken Pansy with her E. By the time she found that out though, she already had a full schedule, and she was not all that keen to continue in Potions anyway.

Snape nodded. "I also require an 'Outstanding,' but if you wish to learn Potions, I sure I could find time to give you private lessons."

Pansy remembered the leering look he had given her before and decided that was the last thing she wanted. This Professor Snape was definitely too accessible.

"Sir, no offence to your subject, but I don't think that I need to continue in Potions."

"Well, what is it that you want to do with your life, Pansy Parkinson?"

Pansy could have sworn that she saw his eyes actually twinkle when he said her name. She put that out of her mind. Her real goal in life was to become a wealthy housewife, but she could not say that to Snape. "I'd just like a cushy job in the Ministry."

"Surely a witch as talented as you would be wasted in the Ministry." This time he definitely ogled her shamelessly.

Pansy bit her tongue to keep her from saying anything rude, like "Ew." This man was still her professor, and she had respected him for the last six years. Of course, another way to look at it was that this man was a professor and behaving very inappropriately.

Pansy was very relieved when they arrived at the statue that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Pansy had never been to see the headmaster before, but she knew where it was just the same. Snape whispered the password and the gargoyle leapt out of the way. She wondered if Snape was going to accompany her, but he did not. He just sent her upstairs with a disturbing pat on her bottom.


	6. Meeting Albus Dumbledore

**A/N:** Here we see some things that vaguely resemble plot. I swear there is a plot. There are just some introductions to get out of the way first.**  
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**Chapter 6—Meeting Albus Dumbledore**

As Pansy walked into the headmaster's office, he looked up at her wearily. "Right. Young lady, we get a lot of transfers to this school nowadays. Due to the influx we had last year, we have found the need to create a more strict admission policy for transfer students. I need to know a few things about you before we can proceed. What is the name of the last school you attended?"

Pansy hesitated and looked at her hands. How was she supposed to answer that? This time it would be much more difficult to change the subject. "Well, you see, Professor, I—"

When Pansy looked up she saw that Professor Dumbledore was staring at her with confusion. "Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy had given up hope that anything like this might happened. Her heart was racing. "Yes! Professor, do you remember me?"

Dumbledore blinked a few times. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Oh." Pansy realized then that he might have learned her name any number of ways, and that his knowing it meant nothing.

"I don't remember you, but I feel as if I should."

That had to be a good sign. Pansy's hope was renewed. "Well, Professor, we have met before."

Professor Dumbledore pushed up on his desk and stood. "Something is wrong here, Miss Parkinson. I've felt it for a while now. You are the first thing that seems right."

Pansy did not know what to say. Obviously, something was wrong, and if anyone was to be aware of it, it made sense that it would be Dumbledore. Should she tell him everything? She remembered reading once in a divination book that if someone knew the future, she must be very careful about how and when she reveals this knowledge. It seemed to Pansy that would apply here as well.

"Professor, how did you know my name?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Because I've met you before somewhere, somewhere I don't remember being."

Everything thus far in the conversation confirmed that the world Pansy remembered was the true world, the world as it should be. The headmaster had said that something was _wrong_. This wasn't just an alternate reality; this reality was wrong. If Dumbledore had the capacity to remember, she wasn't sure if it was wise to force the process by giving him information before he was ready.

"For a year, since the transfer students began to show up, something has bothered me, a constant niggling at the back of my mind. With you here, it's more than that." He looked off into space for a long time. "I just don't remember. I would very much like to hear your story, Miss Parkinson." He sat back at his desk.

Pansy wanted to tell him. This was the first good thing that had happened all day, and she would love to have someone, especially someone as wise and powerful as Dumbledore, to share this nightmare with, but it still did not seem right. "I think…" No, she decided, that was not the way to start. "I agree that something is wrong. I have memories that do not fit in with what I see here. And you are starting to remember things, hopefully the way I do. I want to help you get my world back, but I think you need to remember on your own."

The headmaster beamed at her. "I think you may be right about that. I will not ask you to divulge anything more than this: are you really a transfer student or have you been attending Hogwarts all along?"

"I have been attending Hogwarts all along." It felt good to be able to admit that.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but it was in a much different way than Snape's had, a better way. "Somehow I already knew that the moment you started to speak. In all my years as headmaster and in all the time I was merely a professor, there were only two transfer students before this past year. Both of those students came from Durmstrang because their parents disapproved of the education they were getting in the Dark Arts. We do take foreign students, but the fact is that is rare as well, although less so. Foreign wizards are more likely to want to send their child to a more local school. The whole phenomenon last year was quite odd."

A thought seemed to occur to him. "We did not send any of those girls letters. I hadn't thought about that before. We don't have open admissions; a student needs to be invited."

"I have my letter, Professor." Pansy knew she did not have it on her person, but she checked her pockets just in case. "It's in my trunk, although I don't know where that is. I suppose it would not have been sent to my dorm."

"I'm sure you have one. I have no doubt that you were telling the truth and that you were invited to attend from first year on. All the foreign students before were invited because their parents petitioned the board beforehand. Those two transfer students were a special case. I had met their parents years before, right after the defeat of Grindelwald. They were deeply affected by the Dark Arts and when they learned of their sons' curriculum, they contacted me directly to ask for a transfer."

Pansy was not sure why Dumbledore was telling her all this, and told him so.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. He was always smiling kindly. "Up until you arrived, I never thought about these things. I feel wonderfully lucid with you here, and I wanted to capitalize on it. But, of course, we should move on to more pressing matters, namely your transfer. Despite our new stringent criterion for transfer students, I have found that you will be allowed admission to Hogwarts."


	7. Meeting the Sorting Hat

**Author's Note: **I just want to say a word of thanks to my regular reviewers. All my reviewers have brightened their respective days.

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**Chapter 7—Meeting the Sorting Hat**

After everything Professor Dumbledore had said to her, Pansy did not really think she would be kicked out of the school, but it was nice to have official confirmation that she would be allowed to stay.

"You are a seventh year, correct?" Pansy nodded, and Dumbledore marked it down. "Now, unfortunately, we don't have any room for you in the dorms."

That sounded like a big problem to Pansy. "Is that because of all the new transfer students?" It did not seem fair for her to have to sleep on a couch, while one of them got the bed that had been hers for six years, even if technically no one knew that.

Dumbledore considered the question. "Actually, no. Most of the transfer students have been expelled. They had little regard for the rules. Four of them were killed in the Forbidden Forest, all on separate occasions. In addition to that, they were not diligent in their schoolwork, and most of them were not nearly as talented with magic as they seemed to think. So whether for disciplinary reasons or because of failing grades, all but two transfers are no longer with us. And still, there is no room for you in the dorms." He seemed perplexed by this.

"Where did they all sleep?"

"In the dorms," said Professor Dumbledore slowly. "Interesting. We'll talk about that in a minute. First, you need to be sorted. Even though, you will not be sleeping in the dorm, you will still eat with your house and earn or lose points for your house. There are many reasons you need a house despite the fact that you will not sleep there."

Pansy understood and was pleased to know that she would not be sleeping on a couch in the middle of the common room. Although now that she thought about it, there were still worse possibilities.

The headmaster walked to a shelf and picked up the old Sorting Hat. "Professor, why isn't that in the Great Hall for the Sorting?"

"Another excellent question, Miss Parkinson. I don't know. All I can say is that it will be there when it's needed."

As Dumbledore placed the hat on her head, Pansy did not bother to point out that she had already been sorted. She figured this would be short.

"Another transfer student, eh?" said the Sorting Hat. "Well, where would you like to be placed?"

_Slytherin, of course,_ thought Pansy.

"Of course," repeated the hat snidely. "You know, someday I'm going to put one of you brats in Hufflepuff and see how you like that. But no, despite the fact that you possess none of the requisite… You do possess the requisite traits," said the Sorting Hat in an amazed tone. "Pansy Parkinson, huh? I think you are going to do great things here—SLYTHERIN!"

Dumbledore looked disappointed as she took off the hat. Surely, as headmaster, he was not allowed to be prejudiced against any one house. "Sir, is something wrong?"

Dumbledore covered his disappointment well. "No, not necessarily. Can you tell me exactly what the Sorting Hat said to you?"

Pansy hoped her answer would satisfy him. "He said that he wanted to put me in Hufflepuff just to spite me, but that I possessed the required traits for Slytherin. And he told me I would do great things."

Dumbledore looked pensive. "I should have asked before. Were you always a Slytherin?"

"Yes, is there something wrong with that?" asked Pansy defensively.

"Oh, no. Cunning and ambition are always good traits to have, so long as you really do." He was silent for a long time, which made Pansy think that he was just saying that. "We had thirty eight transfer students last year. Twenty of them were placed in Slytherin. Seventeen were in Gryffindor, and one in Ravenclaw. It's not your fault you're in a popular house, though."

"It's just making you question me."

Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly. "It might were I not so positive that you are the real thing. I want to repeat that I have nothing against your house, Miss Parkinson. I have known many wonderful people who came from it." He shook his head as though he were bothered by a fly. "I think," he added after a second.

Pansy decided not to dwell on that. "So where will I be sleeping, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, the sleeping situation. We lost twenty Slytherin students, all of whom had beds, but now there isn't one for you. I think this world is trying to reject you. It senses that you are a threat, which is a very good thing."

Pansy liked the thought of that, but it made her even more worried about her sleeping arrangements. What could this world do to her? "But, sir, where will I sleep."

Dumbledore smiled. "We have a spare professor's bedroom, actually. It is left over from a time when more subjects were taught at this school. As far as I know, you will be the first student in centuries to have a private room, but it is the only place I can put you. Now, I know that you are of age, Miss Parkinson, but I must ask you to not abuse this privilege."

Pansy hoped the headmaster was not referring to what she thought, because that would be quite awkward. "I swear, Professor, I won't." She meant that, and she hoped her sincerity had conveyed.

Dumbledore nodded, to show that the matter was resolved. "Now, we must talk about your schedule. Could you fill out this sheet with the O.W.L.s you received?"

Pansy looked at the piece of parchment. It had every subject listed with a blank next to it. When she was finished, the parchment read as follows:

Ancient Runes –O

Arithmancy –E

Astronomy –E

Care of Magical Creatures –P

Charms –E

Defence Against the Dark Arts –A

Divination –N/A

Herbology –A

History of Magic –P

Muggle Studies –N/A

Potions –E

Transfiguration –O

Pansy remembered which of her subjects had been Outstanding, and she remembered which had been Poor. She remembered that she had two Acceptables, and one was definitely in Defence, but she was not entirely sure that the other was in Herbology. It seemed the most likely candidate. She realized that she could have padded her scores, since they were probably not on record, but she was actually proud of the eight O.W.L.s she had received. Most of those Es were impressive enough for her. She handed the parchment to Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled as he looked at her scores. "I'm sorry, Miss Parkinson. I have to admit that I was testing you again. Many of the transfer students we received had near perfect scores, yet none of them were able to handle the coursework." He beamed at her now. "However, the fact that you have admitted to being poor or merely acceptable in some subjects gives me high hopes that you will do well in these others."

Pansy smiled back at him, glad that she had not padded her scores.

Dumbledore set down the parchment on his desk. "I'll have a schedule ready for you in the morning, but now I think we should head to the Welcoming Feast so that you can get reacquainted with your classmates."


	8. Meeting Millicent Bulstrode

**Author's Note: **I am posting early due to my excitement over my computer working again. There will probably be another chapter in two or three days.**  
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**Chapter 8—Meeting Millicent Bulstrode**

Professor Dumbledore stood to accompany Pansy to the Great Hall, but then he sat back down. "Oh, I quite forgot about the other transfer students. You go on ahead; I trust you know the way. Just send in the next one."

"Actually, I was the only one to come with Professor Snape."

"Really? That's wonderful news." He stood again. "Then let us join the celebration."

In the entire walk to the Great Hall, Professor Dumbledore did not once touch Pansy, nor did he leer or make an inappropriate comment. For these reasons, when he asked her if she would stop by his office from time to time, Pansy did not feel nearly as uneasy as when Snape had offered private lessons. In fact, she agree to do so, anything to help restore normalcy.

When they arrived at the beautifully decorated hall, Dumbledore escorted Pansy to the Slytherin table. He amplified his voice. "This year we have only one transfer student, and she has been sorted into Slytherin."

No one applauded her, which did not bother Pansy at all. The students at the other tables all went on with their conversations. The Slytherins all looked at her with curiosity. There was no unbridled hatred, so Pansy was fairly happy with that reaction. She knew that she would not have been very welcoming if a transfer student had shown up when things were normal.

Pansy took a quick glance at the Gryffindor table. Hermione was talking animatedly, while Harry brooded and Ron stuffed food in his face. It was odd to realize that the only people who knew her were sitting at that table. That was no matter, though; she was a Slytherin, as she always had been. She would just have to make friends with her classmates all over again.

At the end of the table where Pansy was standing, sat Millicent Bulstrode with room next to her for another person. Millicent had been her friend, or at least loyal lackey, in the past. "Can I sit here?" Pansy asked, trying to sound nice. It was a little difficult, as nice was not her forte.

Millicent grunt in what Pansy took to be assent, and Pansy held out her hand. "I'm Pansy Parkinson."

Millicent shrugged. "I've never heard of you."

Pansy did not see any reason for Millicent to be rude about it. "Well, that's not odd, is it? I'm a transfer student."

"But you must be related to someone or a childhood friend or some such nonsense. Why don't you sit with one of them?"

Pansy wondered if that was how it worked before. After all, the transfer students must have had some connection to the school. "Well, I don't. Why do you assume that? Because I'm British?"

"No, because your kind always do. Every other sixth year had at least one old friend or American cousin transfer in last year, except me. You don't have to sit with me; they would have slid down for you."

Apparently in this Pansy-less world, Millicent had no friends. Pansy had never been particularly kind to the larger girl, but they had been friends, and Pansy was indignant on her behalf. "I'm the only transfer student this year, and I don't know anyone here, really. So how about we pretend that you and I were childhood friends?"

Millicent snorted. "No one will believe that. Besides, I don't need your pity."

Pansy considered where to go from there. Millicent did not seem all that open to friendship, and that just was not acceptable to her.

Millicent spoke again. "Although you are a bit unfortunate looking. You might not be able to get better friends."

"Excuse me?" Pansy took umbrage to this remark. "I am not unfortunate looking."

Millicent nodded up the table at Moonshyne. "Look at her. You won't fit in if you're not perfect. You might be stuck with me as a friend after all."

Pansy looked up the table, but she was not paying attention to Moonshyne. For the first time, she noticed all her other classmates who were gathered around Moonshyne. Daphne was sitting on the fringe of the group, which was normal enough, but everyone else had changed. Pansy supposed this should not have surprised her anymore, but these people had been her friends, and it was more distressing than most of the previously noticed changes. (Snape's transformation was, of course, still the most distressing of all.)

First and foremost, Sally-Anne Perks was nowhere to be seen. In her place, next to Sally-Anne's best friend, Tracey Davis, was Morag MacDougal, who Pansy had known as a particularly annoying Ravenclaw. According to her scarf, however, Morag was a Slytherin now.

Pansy did not know how she was able to recognize Tracey, who looked completely different. The Tracey she had known had beautiful auburn hair that could sparkle in the smallest amount of light. That was her only good physical feature. She too skinny and too tall; she had never developed the way other girls did. She wore robes that were too big, in hopes of creating the illusion that there was something of substance under them. She ate a lot at meals in a vain effort to gain weight, particularly in the chest. The only thing Pansy did not like about her was that she complained about how her metabolism was "too fast" more often than was necessary. Pansy's own metabolism was definitely too slow. Somehow, though, Pansy knew that the platinum blonde with tight robes clinging to her full chest was Tracey Davis. Her facial features were refined just enough to make her look gorgeous. As Pansy looked from face to face she realized this was true of everyone sitting with Moonshyne, except Blaise Zabini, whose features did not need refining. Although after a second, she noticed that his skin was considerably lighter than normal.

Pansy turned back to Millicent. "Well, I think Moonshyne is unfortunate looking."

Millicent covered her mouth as she laughed. "Everyone loves her hair, but I think it looks stupid," she whispered.

Pansy saw the opportunity. "Me, too. So, can we please be friends?"

Millicent nodded and smiled. "I think I'd like that a lot, Pansy Parkinson."


	9. Meeting Morag and SallyAnne

**Chapter 9—Meeting Morag and Sally-Anne**

Dinner went off pretty well with Millicent, except for one tense moment when Pansy called her by her name, even though Millicent had not introduced herself yet. Pansy managed to convince Millicent that she had introduced herself and forgot; how else would Pansy have known? From time to time, Pansy thought she saw, through the corner of her eye, Daphne staring at her again, but every time Pansy looked directly at her, Daphne was involved in a conversation with Theodore Nott, whose big nose suddenly made him look distinguished for some reason.

One time, Pansy also caught Moonshyne staring at her. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Moonshyne was coolly appraising her. It did not take a genius to figure out that now Moonshyne was the alpha female, and for that reason it made sense that she would evaluate Pansy in this way. As the previous alpha female, Pansy would have done the same. Still, she hoped that Moonshyne had an inkling of who she was and saw her as a threat.

Pansy looked at Moonshyne and her companions one more time and counted the seventh year girls. If Moonshyne was a year behind them, as Harry had said, then there were only four seventh year girls other than Pansy. She asked Millicent who the other people in their year were. She confirmed what Pansy had observed about the number and that Sally-Anne Perks was not a Slytherin, if she was at Hogwarts at all.

"Listen," said Millicent. "There's something I need to tell you about transfer students. I've seen a lot of them come and go, and I'm actually starting to like you, so I don't want you to be one of them. You have to follow the rules and work hard in class. I know that you'll see others breaking the rules all the time or blowing off their schoolwork, but it's different. Moonshyne is golden because of what she did. No one's kicking her out of school. And Draco can get away with these things because he's head boy, but as--"

Pansy started. "Wait, he's head boy?" She turned to look at him again. At the station, he had not been wearing his robes, which was odd because Draco did not normally own Muggle clothes. Without his robes, Pansy had not seen the head boy badge. She had to remind herself that here Draco had not attempted to kill anyone, so he was eligible for the position. Still, her Draco would never had made head boy. Although she was sure he was smart enough for it, his grades were often highly average.

Pansy put the shock of that out of her mind. "You don't have to worry about me. Professor Dumbledore told me about the transfer students of last year, and I won't be like that. Although, I heard two of them are still here. Who are they?"

Millicent started to answer, but just then the headmaster stood and said his closing remarks. The next thing Pansy knew she was being herded out of the Great Hall along with all the other students.

Pansy ended up walking next to Morag MacDougal. Pansy had really never liked Morag. She had a habit of asking too many questions in class, to the point where you could tell that even the teachers were getting annoyed. Most of the questions she asked were only just slightly on topic, and she would often follow one up with another. Sometimes she would even answer her own question, making everyone wonder why she bother speaking at all. It was typical Ravenclaw to want to know everything about everything, but most of them were polite enough not to involve the rest of the class in this quest. Even the other Ravenclaws would groan or at least roll their eyes when Morag's hand shot up. Of course, all the evidence from Hermione to Tracey to Snape suggested that it was unfair to judge this Morag by the one Pansy had known.

"So, you're the new girl in Slytherin, huh?"

Pansy found this ironic since Morag was not supposed to be a Slytherin. "Yep. I'm Pansy."

"Listen, Pansy, we've seen a lot girls who thought they were cool, but we don't let just anyone into our group. So you better watch yourself."

_My group_, Pansy wanted to say. Draco and Blaise and Tracey were her group. Back when Morag could not even make friends with Ravenclaws and no one had ever heard of Moonshyne Riddle, this was Pansy's life. She sidestepped a little closer to Morag. "I never said I wanted to be part of your group," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "In fact, I was over there with Millicent, purposefully not interacting with your group."

Morag flipped her hair, which was shinier than usual. "Oh, whatever, Moonshyne saw you throwing yourself at Draco."

"Then Moonshyne should get her freakish eyes checked because I think her sight's going."

Morag laughed. "You are so jealous of her. I knew it." Then she faded into the crowd, and Pansy lost sight of her.

When she finally made it out of the Great Hall, Pansy saw the most horrible thing imaginable. Sally-Anne Perks was before her, wearing a Hufflepuff scarf. Pansy wanted to run up to her and ask who had done such a horrible thing to her. But that would have made her look crazy, so Pansy restrained herself.

Instead, she walked casually up to her old friend. She noticed that unlike Tracey, Hermione, and so many others, Sally-Anne's appearance had not changed at all. She was still a little short and chubby with dirty blonde hair. Her cherub face looked the same as ever, but behind her eyes she was different. Sally-Anne had always had a sweet look about her, but in her eyes there had always been a glint that revealed her wickedness. It had been a surprise to everyone that first week when Sally-Anne turned out to be snide and vicious against people she did not like. To be honest, she was the most Slytherin person in their year. She was manipulative and back-stabbing, unwilling to let anything get in the way of what she wanted, but she was quiet, so few people outside of the Slytherins in their year knew. Despite all those seemingly bad traits, or really because of them, Pansy and the rest of Slytherin loved her.

So to see a Hufflepuff scarf on Sally-Anne, of all people, was quite a shock. She was chatting amicably with Hannah or Susan; Pansy always got them confused. Pansy inserted herself into the conversation, which neither of them seemed to find rude, and introduced herself.

"Hi, Pansy," said Sally-Anne with a big smile. "I'm Sally-Anne Perks and this is Susan Bones. We're in Hufflepuff."

She was so perky and unlike herself. The spark in her eyes had definitely died, and it made Pansy want to cry.

Susan gave a slight frown. "Just so you know, Slytherins don't usually talk to Hufflepuffs."

"Why is that?" Pansy asked innocently, although she knew the answer.

"Because they think we're stupid. If we were cunning, we'd be with you lot, and if we were witty, we'd be in Ravenclaw. And if we were brave, Gryffindor. But we are hard-working, and some people can't see the value in that."

Susan was defensive and confrontational. Next to her, Sally-Anne looked all the more Hufflepuff; she was a super Hufflepuff, the kind that made other Puffs, like Susan, defensive. Pansy found herself vowing to be nicer to Hufflepuffs before realizing, in horror, what she had just thought. It was bad enough she had made friends with Gryffindors.

"Well... okay," she said. "I need to stick with my own house so that I can find the common room. It was nice talking with you."

Pansy found Millicent. She vowed once again to restore the natural balance, for Sally-Anne's sake as much as her own.

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Author's Note: Any anti-Hufflepuff sentiment expressed is Pansy's, not mine. I like to think Susan negates it anyway. 


	10. Meeting Moonshyne Riddle

**Author's Note: **Again, there is plot here; it just unravels slowly. This has a lot to do with the fact that I decided to have such short chapters. But I promise that there will be more and more plot as we continue.

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**Chapter 10—Meeting Moonshyne Riddle**

Pansy made it all the way to the Slytherin common room before she remembered that she was not rooming in the dormitory. In fact, she had no idea where she was rooming. She stood just inside the doorway and watched the other students mill about.

Pansy knew that the only option available to her was to ask Professor Snape for help. The idea of being alone with him again was highly disturbing. He was there in the common room, too, leering at the older female students. Pansy had just about gathered the courage to speak to him when Draco walked up to her.

"Hey, Pansy." He smiled in a way that she had always thought was seductive. "I thought that, as head boy, I should show you to your room."

Was this what Moonshyne considered throwing herself at him? Pansy held in a smirk. "Oh, thanks, but I'm actually--"

He nodded. "Not staying here. I know. I meant that I can show you around the castle to where your room is."

That was definitely preferable to having Professor Snape take her there. Pansy was actually eager to get Draco alone so that she could discover the extent of his change in personality. She rather hoped the poetry bit was an exaggeration on Ginny's part.

"That would be great." Pansy glanced at Moonshyne, and was pleased to see the girl looked livid. Pansy gestured toward the door. "After you."

Draco was almost out the door when Moonshyne grabbed him by the arm. "Draco, I need you."

He looked at Moonshyne, then back at Pansy. The poor boy looked utterly confused. He pried Moonshyne's fingers off his arm and continued to look back and forth between the two girls. Pansy wanted to hear him choose her, but she knew she needed to play it cool. "Well, if Moonshyne needs you, you should go with her. I can find someone else to show me around."

Moonshyne smiled insincerely. "That's a great point. Thanks. Darling, can you wait for me by the couches."

Draco nodded. As he walked away, Draco looked at Pansy over his shoulder as if he was not sure what had just happened.

Moonshyne narrowed her eyes at Pansy. "I think we need to get some things straight."

Pansy smiled sweetly. "Oh, don't worry. Morag already ran interference for you. I know that I am not cool enough to be part of your little clique. So we got that settled. What a relief."

Moonshyne did not smile. Her voice was low and threatening. "I've seen a lot of girls come in here--"

Moonshyne eyes literally flashed, but Pansy refused to be intimidated. "Really, I've heard all this before."

Moonshyne ignored her. "And they have all wanted what I have, be it Harry or Draco. I'm not going to let you waltz into this common room and hang all over Draco in some disgusting display." Her eyes flashed again.

Pansy folded her arms. "I didn't touch Draco. I was standing here, and he came over to me. Maybe you should be giving this speech to him."

Moonshyne was clearly put out that Pansy was not reacting the way she expected. "No, I'm not worried about Draco. He loves me. And that's not going to change just because some skank hits on him. I'll show you."

She walked over to Draco. "Sweetie, tell me how much you love me."

Moonshyne looked Pansy right in the eye as Draco dropped to bended knee and said, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day..."

There he was, actually reciting poetry for that freaky girl. "Why is it always Shakespeare?" someone whispered in her ear.

Pansy turned to find Daphne standing at her side. "Excuse me?"

"Draco always recites Shakespeare to her, as though he were the only poet in the history of the world. Shouldn't he at least quote a wizard?"

All the people around Draco and Moonshyne were laughing and having fun with it. A few younger girls on the sidelines were practically swooning. "I am so glad I'm not the only one who finds this disturbing."

Daphne laughed. "We're supposed to be Slytherins, right? What is that?" She gestured toward the display.

"So, are we friends now, Daphne?"

Daphne looked at her with amusement. "I never told you my name."

By this point, anyone could have told Pansy her name. In fact, Millicent had done so when she listed the seventh years. Pansy went in a different direction, though. "My inner eye is very strong."

Daphne snorted. "Oh, Pansy." There was a familiarity in this that had not passed by Pansy. "Yeah, we could be friends. You were able to make Draco hesitate before doing his mistress's bidding, so I guess you're all right."

Pansy made a mental list of people who had acted as if they knew her, if only briefly. Dumbledore and Daphne were the only ones who made the list. She tried to remember someone else. Draco had heard of her family, but that was it. Three people.

"Hey, have you ever heard of my family?"

Daphne looked at her with sad eyes. She had some sort of internal struggle that showed on her face. "No," she finally said, with a note of regret.

Suddenly, it was all too much for Pansy. She could be living in a world where her parents were gone, which meant for all intents and purposes, she was an orphan. Draco was making an idiot of himself over some girl with green hair. None of her friends remembered her. Any one of those things would have been bad enough, but together it amounted to a world where no one loved her or cared about her. Pansy walked out of the common room into the hall. She just need some space to breathe.


	11. Transfer Students

**Chapter 11—Transfer Students**

Pansy sat down outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room. She had no idea where her room or any of her stuff was, but she could not go back into that room where Draco was reciting Muggle poetry to Moonshyne.

Pansy was still sitting there, wondering about her options, when Hermione walked up to her with a strange girl.

"Oh my god, Pansy, hi. I was just, like, looking for you. I thought that as, like, head girl, I should, like, help you find your room. And here you are sitting, all ready for me and stuff."

Pansy stood. She was a bit relieved to see Hermione. "And who is your friend?"

"Oh my god, I'm so stupid. This is Melpomene Gothika. She was a transfer student last year, and I thought she could, like, help you make the transition."

Pansy held out her hand, but Melpomene only looked at it. "God, Parkinson. I didn't expect to see you here."

Pansy dropped her hand to her side. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, good!" said Hermione. "You two have met. I'll leave you two alone to catch up then."

Pansy had never seen this person before in her life, and did not particularly want to be alone with her. Melpomene was particularly scary looking. Her hair was long and black, which made her nearly white skin glow eerily. Her black eyes—not just dark brown, but black—were rimmed in half an inch of black eye liner. Her lips were also black. Everything about her was black, with the exception of the crimson corset she was wearing.

Pansy felt helpless as Hermione walked away. She was saddened by the fact that the only person who readily knew her was a stranger. She turned to her companion. "I'm sorry. I don't remember where we've met."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. God, you're such a freaking prep! So where were you last year?"

Pansy had no idea what a prep was, but she instinctively did not like this pushy girl. She had an American, or possibly Canadian, accent. "I was in school."

"For your sixth year?"

Pansy nodded.

"So, you were there when Dumbledore bit it, then?"

Pansy started. "How do you know about that?"

"I read the book." Melpomene seemed to find this highly amusing, but Pansy did not know what she was talking about.

"So, you're some crazy girl from America who--"

"I'm from Canada!" Apparently this was a sore subject for her. Pansy was glad she had guessed wrong.

"Crazy girl from _North_ America who read some book and knows how it's supposed to be, but lives in this... alternate universe?"

Melpomene sighed dramatically and raised the back of her hand to her forehead. This was when Pansy saw the violent red scars that went down her wrist, disturbingly parallel. "Pansy, don't you see that this way is better? Everyone is alive and happy. Sure we all have to kowtow to Moonshyne from time to time, but this year, I'm definitely going to get my chance."

"To do what?" Pansy asked.

"To make Sirius Black fall in love with me," Melpomene responded defiantly.

"I'm guessing, nay hoping desperately that he's still alive." Pansy smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Oh, of course he is; Moonshyne took his death scene for the Dark Lord."

"Oh, you noticed that? Yeah, he's alive, and Moonshyne got him cleared of the whole murder thing, so he's good to go. But you don't belong here, Pansy. It's time to make sure people know that."

With this dramatic statement, Melpomene turned to the blank wall and said the password. (It was Salazar, which Pansy found to be incredibly uninventive.) As soon as she was out of sight, a dark skinned girl came around the corner.

"I thought she might do something like that," said the girl in an accent that Pansy could not place. She was either Hispanic or Middle Eastern. "She is going to tell Moonshyne who you really are."

The girl held out her hand, and Pansy shook it. "I am Zahara. I am the transfer student for Ravenclaw. I will show you to your room."

Pansy wanted to like this girl, but after Melpomene, she was wary of transfer students. Zahara was at least dressed in normal robes. "I had many people offer to do that, but I'm still here."

Zahara smiled. "Then let us go, and we will at least get closer to your destination. There is much I need to tell you."

Pansy followed Zahara, mostly because it was getting late and she needed to know where her room was. This girl was more innocuous than a lot of other people she had met that day. "So are you going to tell me the secrets of being a transfer student?"

Zahara looked back at her. "In a way, yes. I know that you are not a transfer student. I am going to tell you the secret of the real transfer students.

"Melpomene and I come from another world, a different one than you do. In this world, we can read about the wizards of the United Kingdom, but we cannot access your world. We can come here to Scotland, but we cannot see this building. We can go to the Leaky Cauldron, but we cannot access Diagon Alley. We are closed off from your kind.

"Or we were, until one day a portal opened. Thirty-eight girls were able to cross through before it was closed. We were the transfer students. Melpomene and I are the only ones who remain. She was wrong about you; _we_ do not belong here.

"I came from Lebanon. I miss it, and I miss my family, but I don't know how to return. I went through the portal because I wanted to learn magic, which I cannot do there. If the time comes when I am able to go back, then I will have a choice to make, but until then, I can only continue my education."

Pansy did not know what to do with this information. It answered some of the questions she had had, but not many. "But you know things as I remember them?"

Zahara nodded. "I do. It was a dark time that you came from. Melpomene was right that everyone is happy now. I do not like Moonshyne, and I do not know if things have worked out for the best, but it is easier for me to learn magic under these circumstances. It is all a paradox."

They arrived at a door on the fifth floor, just around the corner from the library. "This is your room," said Zahara. "There is no password. You must create your own. You will know how to do that, because you are a prefect."

Pansy was pleased that Zahara knew that. She did not bother to tell Zahara that prefects did not set the passwords because she did know how to do it. She thanked Zahara and went into her new room.

As Pansy was about to close the door, Zahara said, "If you want to restore your world, I will do anything I can to help you." She turned and walked away.

* * *

**Author's Note:** One, I am an American, and I have nothing against Canadians. I only made Melpomene Canadian so that I could use that "North America" thing. Two, I do have one regret about Melpomene, which is that she actually has a Greek name, making it somewhat realistic. 


	12. Professor Figg

**Author's Note: **I know that technically this chapter and the last could have easily had "Meeting" tacked on to the front of the title and fit in with my previous chapter titles, but Pansy couldn't keep meeting people for the rest of the story, so I decided ten was a nice even number. (I'm sure this is fascinating for you.)

* * *

**Chapter 12—Professor Figg**

After Zahara was gone, Pansy went about settling into her room. It was a small, barren room. It contained only a twin size bed, a wardrobe, and a small night table. There was an even smaller bathroom off the side, which was fairly disgusting with its grimy walls and cracked mirror. She knew why these teacher's quarters had fallen into disuse. She could not imagine that the others could possibly be this bad; otherwise, why would anyone teach here?

Pansy saw her trunk in the corner. She went about unpacking in the hopes of making the room more homey. Her robes barely fit in the small wardrobe, and the rest of her clothes would have to stay in the trunk. When she had finished unpacking, she looked around. Somehow, having her shoes lined up next to the wardrobe had not gone very far in improving the atmosphere of the room. In the next few days, she would be able to do things about her room. She was quite handy with the cleaning spells needed in the bathroom, and she was fairly sure she knew how to expand the wardrobe. With the library down the hall, she was positive she would even be able to find spells to transfigure the bed and fix the mirror. She was just too tired to do any of that magic that night.

Despite everything, Pansy was not going to complain about her room. Yes, it was completely cut off from the rest of her house, and the other houses, really. And yes, it was small and depressing, but there were worse alternatives. It even had a nice little window. This was all she had right now, and Pansy was going to make the best of it.

Pansy settled onto her bed. All alone, in the utter quietness of her room, she realized for the first time that she had no idea what she was supposed to do to fix the world. She was full of big plans and great hope, but what was she supposed to do with any of that? She knew that she needed to see Dumbledore again.

-----

The next morning at breakfast, Pansy received her new schedule. Her first class was to be N.E.W.T Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was odd to her because she had only received an Acceptable in that subject. However, Professor Dumbledore had created her schedule personally, so she decided not to question it.

When she got to the Defence classroom, Pansy tried to find a place to sit. Hermione was sitting with Harry and Ron, which was to be expected. Daphne was sitting with Tracey and Morag. Draco's table was also full, but Pansy would not have asked to sit with him anyway. Up to that point, Draco had been the one to seek her out, and Pansy was determined to make sure that was always the case. She did not want any reason for Moonshyne to be able to rationally think that Pansy was throwing herself at him.

Pansy finally settled on asking to sit with Zahara and Padma Patil. After all, she liked Zahara at least as much as she liked anyone else. Pansy had been a prefect with Padma for the previous two years, and in that time she had never been given a reason to dislike the girl, other than the fact that she was naturally pretty. Padma was no prettier than she had been in the past, so Pansy was no longer going to hold that against her either. The girls quickly agreed to allow Pansy to sit with them, and she took a seat in the empty chair.

As always, there was an unfamiliar face at the front of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The new teacher did not introduce herself, but launched into an introductory speech. Pansy quietly asked Zahara who the professor was.

"Arabella Figg," Zahara whispered back. "She is supposed to be a Squib."

Pansy did not bother to ask how Zahara knew this or what she meant by "supposed to be." It seemed to Pansy that nobody was_ supposed_ to be a Squib; it just kind of happened that way sometimes. How was it that a Squib was teaching at Hogwarts anyway?

Professor Figg suddenly stopped her lecture. "I'm sorry, I see that there is a new face in the class. I didn't mean to ignore you, dear. Please stand so the class can greet you. What is your name?"

Pansy reluctantly stood and said her name. Professor Figg's remark led her to believe that the woman had been teaching Defence for longer than just this year, which was not done anymore. Upon hearing her name, Figg faltered slightly.

Later in the class, Professor Figg attempted to demonstrate a bit of advanced magic, but she failed. This did not surprise Pansy if the woman was a Squib. On her third try though, she was able to successfully cast the spell. Pansy looked around to see if this success surprised anyone else. It did not seem to, so Pansy figured that was what Zahara meant.

As she was looking around, Pansy saw that Daphne was once again staring at her. Their eyes met, and Daphne raised her eyebrows. Pansy quickly looked away, but she was sure that Daphne knew more than she was letting on.


	13. Zahara and Melpomene Revisited

**Author's Note: **I should mention that I'm starting to really like Zahara, and that makes me nervous. Liking your original character is the first step on the slippery slope to Mary-Suedom. I'll just say that she is supposed to be well-rounded and atypical, but she is a self-insert (not of me), and so she was always intended to straddle that line. Writing a good original character is difficult in this fandom, so I wanted to let you know my intentions for Zahara. Moonshyne and Melpomene are pretty self-explanatory.

* * *

**Chapter 13—Zahara and Melpomene Revisited**

When Defence Against the Dark Arts was over, Zahara leaned over and asked Pansy if she was in Ancient Runes. When Pansy answered yes, Zahara said, "Good. We will walk together. There is still much I need to tell you."

Pansy was grateful for any insight that Zahara could give her. She did not quite understand who Zahara and Melpomene were in the grand scheme of things, but they did have some kind of unique perspective that Zahara was willing to share with her. So Pansy agreed to walk with her, because of all the friendships she could cultivate here, Zahara's would probably be the most beneficial.

When the class got to the first turn at the end of the hallway, Hermione, Padma, and all the other students on their way to Ancient Runes turned left, but Zahara took a right. Pansy cleared her throat. "Actually, it would be quicker if we..." She gestured in the other direction.

Zahara stopped her progress and turned around. "We have time to go this way. I thought it would be best to take a longer route and separate ourselves from the group. We do not want to be overheard."

"Oh." Pansy followed her down the right hall. "So, what else was there that you needed to tell me?"

Zahara smiled back at Pansy. "I have not told you much at all yet. I will say that I do not know how this happened, and, despite anything she may say, neither does Melpomene. There is one important thing that you must know, though. I do not know how you are going to feel about this."

Pansy was getting annoyed by the way Zahara was drawing it out. She knew that Zahara was only trying to prepare her for what was to come, but she wished the girl would spit it out.

"In the stories we read, Melpomene and I, you were not mentioned much. As you can probably guess, they were mostly about Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore."

Pansy shrugged. That sounded reasonable. After all, why would she be in the papers?

"Lord Voldemort is dead. You are in Slytherin and you are friends, if not more, with Draco Malfoy, so maybe his death upsets you."

Was that the big secret? "Oh, I already knew that You-Know-Who has died. And I, er, I don't know how to feel about that."

"That wasn't it. There is a new dark presence. Now, if you choose to support it, that is your choice, but I thought you should know." Zahara stopped walking and looked at Pansy carefully. "Nobody else would have told you, because so few people are aware of it. But there is someone out there."

Pansy was about to ask Zahara what she meant by "dark presence" and if anything could be worse than Voldemort, but she was distracted by the sound of voices. From around the corner came the distinctive tinkling voice of Moonshyne and another Pansy did not recognize.

"No, really, Moonshyne, you're gonna want to hear what I have to say."

Moonshyne gave a long-suffering sigh. "I don't have a lot of time, Mel, so why don't you get to the point?"

Pansy still could not place who Mel was. She turned to Zahara and made a face. "Melpomene," Zahara whispered.

"It's about that new girl," said Melpomene.

"Right, Pansy. You said something about her last night, but you've just been dancing around the issue. So you can either tell me or let me get on my way."

"I just think it's interesting that I have information you need. You always know everything, but you don't know this. I'm just taking the opportunity to revel in that."

"You need to remember your place." Moonshyne's voice was a little scary as she said this; the tinkling was gone. "Do not bother me again until you are willing to say something. I'm going to walk away now."

Moonshyne must have walked down the same way she had come, but Melpomene stormed around the corner and came face to face with Pansy and Zahara.

Zahara had a smug look on her face. "You should have know better than to try that with her."

Melpomene looked from Zahara to Pansy. "You do realize who this is, right? What her presence might mean?"

"If you mean that she's here to set the world right, yes, I realize that."

Before Pansy was fully aware of what was happening, Melpomene had pulled a large sword out of a sheath on her back and was brandishing it at Pansy. "Maybe I like things the way they are. Maybe I'm willing to fight to keep things like this."

Pansy was so scared she feared she might wet herself, but Zahara did not look fazed at all. "You should probably put your little sword away."

"It's a Katana!"

"Well, whatever it is, if you hurt someone with it, you will go the way of the other Mary Sues."

Melpomene's face quivered with rage, but she sheathed her "katana." "I am not a Mary Sue!" She turned and walked away in a huff, muttering to herself.

Pansy admired the way Zahara had handled the situation, but she had not really understood a lot of what had happened. "What's a Mary Sue?"

Zahara laughed. "It is the best way to insult Melpomene."

"And what's a katana?"

Zahara shook her head. "It is apparently some kind of sword."

Pansy continued down the hallway. They were almost certainly going to be late for Ancient Runes now. "What kind of name is Melpomene?"

"She was the Greek muse for tragedy. Which is appropriate, I guess, since her presence here is tragic."

"Do you think Moonshyne could be the dark presence? I was thinking that she killed You-Know-Who pretty easily. It would take a lot of... power to do that."

"I suppose it could be possible, but something about that does not seem right to me. This new dark presence is subtle and patient; Moonshyne is neither."

"Well, she's a Slytherin. She must have some subtlety. What has this new person done?"

Zahara shushed Pansy. They were at the door for Ancient Runes. "We're late. And he already doesn't like me very much."

"He? When I went here, Ancient Runes was taught by a crazy, old hag."

Zahara sighed. "I wish I could learn Runes from a crazy, old hag." She opened the door to the classroom and walked in.


	14. Lunch with the Gryffindors

**Chapter 14—Lunch with the Gryffindors**

When Pansy walked into the Ancient Runes classroom, she thought that maybe it was okay the crazy, old hag was gone. She took a seat with Zahara, but her eyes never left the man at the front of the class. He was gorgeous. He was maybe twenty five, with long brown hair tied back with a ribbon.

The new professor walked up to where the two of them were sitting. "Miss... Zahara, you're late. That's a detention."

Zahara rolled her eyes. "That is fine."

The professor extended his hand to Pansy and smiled. "I am Professor Putain d'Homme. You must be the new student."

She shook his hand. "I'm Pansy Parkinson." She was feeling a little hot under his gaze. It wasn't until he walk back to the front of the class that Pansy noticed it was actually the classroom that was hot. In fact, many of the girls had shed their robes, and when Tracey turned to say something to Morag, Pansy saw that she had unbuttoned her shirt down to her cleavage. In her head, Pansy renamed her Trampy McSlut, because Tracey Davis had been her friend, and that cleavagy blonde was not Tracey.

Over the course of the class, Pansy realized why Zahara would rather be taught by a hag. It was only the first day of class, but the things Professor d'Homme was going over were so basic that any N.E.W.T. level student would feel insulted. For the most part, he spoke to them as if they were third years, although occasionally Pansy got the feeling that the professor was flirting with certain female students. As she looked around, she realized that the class was disproportionately female. Pansy hoped that meant Theodore Nott, Terry Boot, and the other missing males had gotten sick of being talked down to. Ancient Runes had always been Pansy's best subject, but she was pretty sure that, given the choice, she would have dropped it rather than continue put up with this.

When class was over Pansy asked Zahara why the professor did not like her. "Probably because I do not show enough skin," was Zahara's response.

"Is that why he calls you 'Miss Zahara?'"

Zahara grinned. "No, that is because he cannot pronounce my surname."

Pansy started stuffing her books into her bag. "What is your surname?"

"Kheirallah. He used to try, but he does not like it when I correct him."

"Well, listen, I wanted to try to talk to Professor Dumbledore during lunch, so I'll see you in whatever class we have together next." Pansy had not actually told Zahara that she was working with Dumbledore to fix things, but she figured Zahara would understand what she meant anyway.

Zahara got up to leave and waved goodbye to Pansy. Pansy was having trouble getting her Runes workbook into her bag. It kept getting caught on something and bending awkwardly. Pansy really did not want to be left alone with Professor d'Homme, so she tried to force the book in rather than fix the problem, which was actually taking more time.

"I'll help you with that." Pansy looked up to see the smiling face of Hermione.

Pansy sat back. Hermione would smooth things out and make it all work. Time was no longer of the essence for Pansy now that she had a companion to act as a buffer between her and Professor Hornball. Hermione's shirt was also half unbuttoned, and she would surely command the man's attention if it came to that.

It did not take Hermione very long at all to get the workbook into Pansy's bag. She handed the bag to Pansy. "I was thinking that we haven't gotten the chance to really talk since the train. Come on, have lunch with me."

Pansy was surprised by the invitation. "You mean at the Gryffindor table? Is that allowed?" It had not been in her reality.

Hermione shrugged. "Sure."

Pansy really did want to talk with Dumbledore, but she also was intrigued by the idea of eating with the Gryffindors. She would see the headmaster soon enough, and there was surely some information to be learned from the students in Gryffindor. Pansy told Hermione that she would be glad to have lunch with her.

In the Great Hall, walking toward the Gryffindor Table, the first thing Pansy noticed was Melpomene. "She's in Gryffindor?"

"Oh yeah," said Hermione. "She and Ginny are, like, best friends."

It wasn't until Hermione said it that Pansy realized up until that point she had not used the word "like" or "Oh my god" yet in their conversation. It did not surprise Pansy that Ginny and Melpomene were friends, really. They both dressed in black and were angry all the time. And when she thought about it, Pansy had known that the one transfer student was in Ravenclaw and the other was in Gryffindor. Melpomene just had not struck her as a Gryffindor. Plus, she had known the Slytherin password, not that she really seemed like a Slytherin.

Pansy took a seat between Hermione and Ginny. She expect someone to say something about her sitting at the wrong table, but no one did. Melpomene was sitting on the other side of Ginny, and Ron was across the table from Pansy, shovling food into his face as if he was afraid there was a shortage.

Conversation swirled around her, but it was mostly boring, so Pansy did not participate. She was eating quietly, minding her own business, when Melpomene pulled her to her feet and said, "We need to talk."

She dragged Pansy over to a corner, where no one would be able to hear their conversation. Pansy looked around and saw that no one even seemed to notice. She thought about the sword from before and hoped that someone would notice if Melpomene brandished that thing again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" hissed Melpomene.

"Eating lunch with my new friend, Hermione."

Melpomene smirked. "Not so brave without Zahara around, are you?"

Pansy was not exactly sure what she was talking about since she had been much less brave in the hall with Zahara and the katana. She did not want to say that though, because it would bring attention to the fact that she had been scared then. "I'm brave enough to handle you, regardless of who I'm with."

"You don't belong at the Gryffindor table."

Pansy scoffed. "But you belonged in the Slytherin common room last night?" Melpomene started to speak, but Pansy cut her off, remembering what Zahara had said. "Why don't you just sit down and stop being such a Mary Sue?"

Pansy was amazed by how well the taunt worked, considering that she did not even know what it meant. Melpomene's face turned red, and she stalked off. Pansy decided to find out more about this "Mary Sue" thing. She was not quite done bothering Melpomene though. She returned to the table and took her seat on the other side of Ginny from Melpomene. "Ginny, if Melpomene's your best friend, why didn't you sit with her on the train?"

Ginny shrugged. "I always sit with Hermione."

"Yeah, but she's a Mudblood and way too perky for you. Melpomene just seems more your speed."

Pansy did not know for sure what exactly she expected Ginny to say, but what actually happened was so much better than she could have hoped. Ginny looked over at Melpomene and turned back to Pansy. "Actually, I'm kinda over the whole Melpomene thing."

"Excuse me?" said Melpomene from Ginny's left. "You're over me?"

"Yeah, you're kinda a drag. I mean it's just 'goth' this and 'hardcore' that. And that katana? You're not even Japanese. You're like an American, or something."

Melpomene's eyes went wide. "I'm Canadian. You know that."

"Oh, right." Ginny flipped her hair and turned her back to Melpomene. "Is it just me, or is Harry looking really hot today?" Her tone implied that she hoped it wasn't just her, because she would not know what to make of that.

Pansy looked at Harry. He was sitting next to Ron, who was still eating, although at a slightly slower pace than before. "It's just you."

Ginny cocked her head to the side and stared at Harry. "Really?"

Across the table, Ron put down his fork. "I'm full," he said with a sense of wonder.

* * *

**Author's Note:** According to Babel Fish, Putain d'Homme means "whore of man" in French. So basically, his name is a bad French translation of "man whore," which is perfect, because that is exactly how I want you to think of Professor d'Homme, right down to being pseudo-French. 


	15. Imperfect

**Chapter 15—Imperfect**

After lunch, Pansy had a free period. From what she could tell, N.E.W.T. Level Potions was that afternoon, and after spending part of the morning with Professor d'Homme, Pansy was glad she was not in a class with the new Snape. Pansy was going to use the opportunity to go see the headmaster, but again, she had a new friend want to spend time with her. This time it was Millicent, who was technically an old friend. Pansy had been popular enough back in her own time, but never like this. Pansy was going to ask Millicent to take a rain check, but then she remembered what the girl had said the night before. Pansy was her only friend.

So Pansy found herself walking into the Slytherin common room. This afternoon, Moonshyne was not there. As Pansy looked around, things almost seemed normal. Sure, Trampy was brushing her long blonde hair, and Morag was reading in the corner, but it still gave Pansy a pang of nostalgia. As she took a seat on one of the couches, she did not see either Draco or Daphne, who were the only two Slytherins of interest to her other than Millicent.

"So," said Millicent, "I heard you've been spending a lot of time with Zahara. She's pretty cool. If you have to hang out with another transfer student, I definitely recommend her over Melpomene."

"Yeah, that's rapidly becoming clear. Melpomene is a little intense."

An awkward silence stretched between the two girls. Pansy did not really want to talk about the transfer students. She was with her old friend, and she wanted to be able to sink back into the comfort of her old life. The problem was that Pansy had no idea what to talk to Millicent about. They did not have the same rapport that they had had in Pansy's world. "So..." Pansy grinned. "You hate Moonshyne, too?"

Millicent laughed, covering her mouth again. Pansy had never noticed that she did that. "Yeah, I really do."

Pansy should have known. Making fun of other people was what the Slytherin girls had bonded over in the first place. "Is there anyone else you don't like?"

Millicent bit her nail. "Actually, I hate all of them, with their perfect hair and perfect teeth. Oh, and then there's their perfect skin and their perfect boobs. Every-freaking-thing about them is perfect." Millicent was starting to get worked up, but then she returned to biting her nails. "Is that okay?"

"I think it's fine. I'm getting a little sick of it, too." Pansy really wanted to get into the specifics of why Millicent hated each girl, but then she saw Blaise walking toward her. The closer he got, the worse he looked. At the table the previous night, Pansy had been too far away to really see him. First of all, his skin was considerably lighter than she had ever seen it before, which Pansy should have been able to see at dinner. She must not have been paying enough attention. Also, there was something vaguely androgynous about him. In fact, he was a couple pigments and a haircut away from looking like a white girl. Pansy thought he was going to stop, but he just walked right past her and sat at one of the tables.

"I'm sorry, Millicent. I want to hear what you have to say about every one of those perfect bitches, but I really want to talk to Blaise right now."

Millicent nodded. "That's fine." Then her voice dropped to a whisper. "Blaise isn't perfect."

Pansy walked over to Blaise, and she could see that Millicent was right. It was just weird for her since the Blaise she had known came the closest to perfect of anyone in Slytherin.

"Hi. It's Blaise, right?"

Blaise looked up at her and nodded. Male or female, black or white, he was still as striking as ever. He looked so sad, though. Pansy wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that she was going to fix all of this, but he would not have understood what she meant.

A long awkward silence passed between them. Finally Blaise said, "So you're Pansy. The new girl."

Pansy should not have been the new girl to him. Of all the Slytherins, Pansy had known Blaise the longest. They had met at the age of four, when his mother had married a friend of the Parkinson family. Of course, like all of Widow Zabini's husbands, that man was dead now, but Pansy and Blaise had remained close even after that connection was severed. Through the years at Hogwarts, they had grow apart a little, but still, she was not new to him, she was the girl to whom he tried to teach Italian when they were five. Every time Pansy thought she was getting used to it, something like that would happen.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied sadly.

After that, the conversation was awkward and forced. It did not take long for Pansy to excuse herself, saying that she needed to get back to Millicent.

Millicent and Pansy talked for a long time, mostly about the love lives of their classmates. For the most part this was not very interesting to Pansy, so she steered the conversation to Draco's relationship history. The first girl he dated was Ginny. They were together for all of his fifth year. It had really bothered their families.

"Why, if the Weasleys were secretly Death Eaters?" asked Pansy, although she refused to believe that was the case.

Millicent was stumped. "Because... Well, they... The Malfoys and Weasleys just hate each other."

"Entire families don't just hate each other for no reason. There must be something."

Millicent shrugged. "I don't know. Let's move on. So, at the end of fifth year, the Dark Lord was defeated. Moonshyne and Harry were having problems. He couldn't handle that someone, especially his girlfriend, stole his moment of glory."

Pansy and Draco had spent years referring to Harry Potter as a big-headed glory hound. Professor Snape had made several cracks about it in class. Pansy sort of hated herself for even thinking these traitorous thoughts, but that was not how Harry really was. As difficult as it was for her to admit to herself that she was wrong, it occurred to her with sudden clarity that the Harry she had known, albeit peripherally, had never sought out attention. Yes, he had been chosen as a Triwizard Champion, making it Quadwizard, but Pansy now knew, through her parents, that he had not actually put his name in for it. He had given an interview to The Quibbler, but she knew that was about telling the truth of what happened in the graveyard. So maybe Harry would have cared that he was not the one to get rid of the Dark Lord this time around, but Pansy really doubted it.

"Anyway, after the break-up, Moonshyne had decided to go after Draco, never mind that he had a girlfriend at the time." Pansy thought this might explain Ginny's hostility toward the girl.

Millicent went on and on about the Draco/Moonshyne relationship, how sweet he had become, how romantic, etcetera. "It's just too bad it's all wasted on her," Millicent finished.

As Millicent was saying this, Draco walked through the entrance. She could not have possibly known this, as she had her back to him, but Pansy had noticed the impeccable timing. "Yeah, it is."

It took Pansy a few moments to realize that if Draco was back from Potions, it was almost time for her next class. Pansy consulted a clock on the wall, although she already knew roughly what it would say. She found that she was running even later than she thought.

Pansy stood and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. She was walking backwards, apologizing to Millicent for leaving so abruptly. She did not realize Draco was behind her until she backed into him and fell.


	16. The Only One She Fears

**Author's Note: **I've been really busy. I'm sorry if the updates are slowing down. (If haven't yet, they will. Sorry.)

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**Chapter 16—The Only One She Fears**

Pansy landed flat on her back, looking up at Draco. He offered her his hand to help her up, but she refused it. Normally, she would have eagerly accepted his hand, but there was something so undignified about the whole situation that Pansy felt the need to show she was capable of getting up on her own. She mumbled an apology to Draco as she pushed herself to her feet. She made a move to collect her bag, but Draco swooped in and picked it up for her.

"Thank you," Pansy said, trying to take the bag from him.

Draco held tight to the bag and took a hold of her arm. "Actually, Pansy, I had something I wanted to talk to you about," he said as he led her to a secluded area near the entrance to the common room.

Pansy thought about the fact that she was going to be late for another class. She really did want to hear what Draco had to say, but this was not a good start to the school year. Pansy decided to go along with Draco anyway, rationalizing that this was not the real world, and her academic record here was not important. So she allowed herself to be led.

When they got to the wall, Draco handed Pansy her bookbag, but he did not say anything. He just stared at her in the same transfixed way he had at King's Cross. "So what was it you needed to say?" Pansy prompted.

Instead of speaking, Draco leaned in close and kissed her.

The kiss took Pansy completely by surprise, although from the way he had been looking at her, she figured it should not have. Pansy had always loved kissing Draco, and she had done it so often during their fifth and sixth years that she was very familiar with his style. Having that knowledge, she noticed right away that he was doing it differently now. He was tender and hesitant. Pansy supposed that it would have been nice had she not experienced the passion and urgency of which he was capable. As it was, this kiss was not doing much for Pansy. The only real satisfaction it gave her was the triumph over Moonshyne. It was the thought of Moonshyne that kept Pansy from impressing her own passion upon Draco. It was crucial to her that he take the lead in everything so that Moonshyne could not accuse Pansy of anything. So Pansy was forced to endure a rather bland kiss from the man she considered her soulmate.

Pansy's sense of triumph increased when the door to the common room swung open and she heard Moonshyne's voice. It was short lived as Draco also became aware of the presence of his girlfriend. It would have been impossible for him to extract himself from Pansy without drawing Moonshyne's attention. As an alternative, Draco drew Pansy deeper into the shadows so as to escape his girlfriend's notice. Pansy understood his motivations, and as much as she wanted to rub the snogging in Moonshyne's face, she knew it was best to bide her time. Drawing attention to it in any obvious way would have been unsavory and just not Pansy's style. So instead, she just stood there, still in Draco's arms, and tried to listen in on Moonshyne's conversation.

This time around, Moonshyne was talking with Daphne. "Melpomene won't tell me, but I have a feeling that there is actually something about that new girl."

Daphne stopped just inside the entrance. She was facing Draco and Pansy, which was convenient because it meant Moonshyne had her back to the two of them. Pansy thought that Daphne's eyes might have landed on them for a second, but it was so brief that it was difficult to tell. "And you're point is?"

Moonshyne huffed. "My point is, if you know something, tell me."

Daphne laughed, not sarcastically but as though she were genuinely amused by this. She walked away, shaking her head as though that was the best joke she had heard in a long time.

Before Daphne got far, Moonshyne grabbed a hold of her robes and stopped her in her tracks. "I am so tired of people skirting the issue. I want to know what you know right now!"

Daphne looked coldly at the hand on her robes. "In case you've forgotten, Moonshyne, I don't take orders from you. So get your hands off me and try bullying someone else."

This time Moonshyne let Daphne leave. After Daphne had a long head start, she followed into the area that housed the girls' dormitories. Finally, Draco was able to let go of Pansy, and he returned to the main part of the room without a word.

Pansy was intrigued. She left the common room to head to her next class. Even though she was already late and it would take a solid fifteen minutes to get to the Astronomy Tower, Pansy set out at a leisurely pace. She had a lot on her mind after observing that little scene. First there was the fact that Moonshyne actually expected Daphne to know whatever Melpomene was not telling her. Right from the beginning, Daphne had acted differently toward Pansy than anyone else. Pansy remembered at the train station she had seen Daphne staring at her and all the knowing looks Pansy had caught from her since then. She could not decide what to make of the fact that Daphne apparently knew a lot more than she was telling, so she moved on.

The second intriguing thing about Daphne and Moonshyne's interaction was the way Daphne had spoken to her. Earlier that same day, Melpomene had tried something similar, to little effect. In fact, Zahara had told her it was foolish to try. Yet, Daphne had effectively intimidated Moonshyne. Pansy could only guess what that meant, but now she knew for sure that Daphne was the person to whom she really needed to talk.


	17. No Harm Done

**Chapter 17—No Harm Done**

Pansy had gotten an "Exceeds Expectations" on her Astronomy O.W.L., but she had never intended to continue in the subject. Professor Dumbledore had prepared a schedule based solely on her O.W.L.s, without even asking her what line of work she wanted to go into. It had worked out for the most part, as she had ended up with the same five classes she had taken in her sixth year plus Astronomy. Although the Defence course she had taken before had been a non-N.E.W.T. class for upper level students, which had been required because of the Dark Lord. If he was gone, as everyone said, Pansy wondered why she was put in the class at N.E.W.T. level when she had only received an "Acceptable" on her O.W.L.

Pansy did not mind taking Astronomy this year. Even though she was fairly certain that she would not be do anything with it professionally, Astronomy had always been a rather easy course for her. If it had not been for the attack on Professor McGonagall that had disrupted the practical portion of the test, she was sure she would have gotten an "Outstanding." Still, since Astronomy was not an important class and would not matter when she got her life back, Pansy had no qualms about skipping it.

The thought did not occur to her until she reached the second floor. She stood on the landing for a moment before deciding in the spur of the moment to use this time to see Dumbledore. She got off the stairs and walked up the corridor to where the gargoyle stood guard. The night before Professor Snape had whispered the password, but Pansy had heard it plain as day. "Lemon drop," she whispered now.

The gargoyle leapt out of the way, and Pansy followed the same path she had the night before. After the staircase had carried her to the top, Pansy knocked on the door to the headmaster's office.

She was greeted by a smiling Dumbledore. "Ah, Miss Parkinson. Please come in. What can I do for you?"

Pansy walked into the office and sat on one of the chairs. "I have been talking with some of my classmates, and I think I have some insight on that problem we discussed last night."

Professor Dumbledore took a seat across from her. He had a slight frown on his face. "I'm afraid I don't remember the problem to which you are referring."

It had not occurred to Pansy that after remembering, Dumbledore could forget again. She tried to think of a way to broach the subject in such a way that he would be able to remember on his own, as he had before. "Er,... the problem regarding the sudden influx of transfer students."

"Oh!" Professor Dumbledore's eyes lit up. "You see, this is what I was talking about before. That whole conversation completely slipped my mind. Do you think I'm going senile?"

Pansy bit her lip. She did not want this to be so difficult with Dumbledore. She hoped that it would not be like this every time she came to visit him. "No, Professor. A lot of people have been forgetting things recently. Are you remembering things better now?"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "It is all coming back to me slowly." He shook a finger at her. "You are not a transfer student."

Pansy sighed, both with relief that he had remembered and frustration that it had taken as long as it had. "No, sir, I'm not."

He nodded again. "All right then. Please do share the information you've gathered from your classmates."

The most important piece of information she had to give was something Pansy had already known the night before: Moonshyne was not supposed to be there. The problem was that from what Pansy had heard, it did not seem that Moonshyne had transferred in, but rather that she had always been at the school as far as anyone could remember. That made it the kind of information that she wanted the headmaster to discover for himself. She had not thought about it before, but most of the information she had required knowledge of that one fact. "Well," she started, "I spoke with Zahara, who is a true transfer student. She said that a year ago, a portal opened that allowed her and the others to cross into our world. I didn't really understand what she meant by that, but it sounded like she might have been a Muggle until then."

Professor Dumbledore sat up a little straighter. "Really? What did she say to make you think that?"

Pansy told him what Zahara had said about not being able to access their world, which Dumbledore seemed to find fascinating. "She said something else, too. She said that there's a new dark presence. I don't know if you knew about that. Zahara implied that there weren't many people who did."

Dumbledore was silent for several seconds. "I was not aware of any new dark presence. Did she say what she meant by that?"

"No," said Pansy. "We were interrupted before she could elaborate, but I do intend to ask her. Actually, we were interrupted by Melpomene, who pulled a sword on me."

"A sword? My goodness! She didn't hurt you with it, did she?"

The headmaster was alarmed, but not nearly as much as Pansy thought he should be. "No, but... she was brandishing it in the middle of the hallway. A sword. She called it a kat... something."

"Yes, well, as long as there was no harm done, it's not so bad, is it?"

Here was yet another reminder that this man was not quite the same as the headmaster she was used to. "Any harm would have been potentially fatal. But, no, I see your point."

Professor Dumbledore beamed at her. "Is there anything else?"

As long as he was not aware of Moonshyne's intrusion, there was not much more she could tell him. "No. I'll talk to Zahara and let you know what she has to say about the dark presence. I just wanted to keep you abreast of the developments." She rose to her feet.

Professor Dumbledore stood as well. "Miss Parkinson, may I ask why?"

Pansy was taken aback. "So that you can do something when the time comes. Take action, fix things."

He looked at her so sadly, and it was the first time that day she had seen any of the old wisdom in his eyes. "Could I have really fixed things where you came from?"

"Well, yes, sir. You were kinda known for it."

He nodded resolutely. "I'll do what I can, Miss Parkinson, but you need to be prepared to fix things on your own this time. But I do appreciate you coming by to let me know what you have learned. I hope that will continue, even if I fail to inspire any confidence."

"Of course I will, Professor." Pansy knew that the headmaster had only just returned fully to his faculties. Because it had taken him so long this time, she was mentally preparing herself to restore the order of things without his help, but she was never going to give up on him. She would continue to report to him and hope that her presence would make him more lucid, even if it was only from time to time.

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Author's Note: I'm hoping to put up a new chapter for Thanksgiving (since I'm not working.) But regardless of when it goes up, the next chapter is extra-special. Just trust me. 


	18. The Mystery Man

**Author's Note:** I am very thankful for my readers this Thanksgiving, so here it is as promised: twice the length, twice the info. Happy Thanksgiving! (Or happy Thursday, for any non-American readers.)

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**Chapter 18—The Mystery Man**

In theory, Pansy understood that it was through coming in contact with her that Professor Dumbledore became himself again. She also understood that she might have a similar effect on other people with whom she came in contact. That did not lessen the shock when she saw Blaise.

When she left Dumbledore's office, Daphne and Blaise were walking down the hallway. Back when things were normal, Blaise had been intrigued by Daphne. That was always how he put it. He did not like her, and it was not a crush; he was just intrigued, or occasionally, fascinated. Daphne was an outcast, and he refused to admit to anything more than that. Pansy, seeing right through him, had always teased Blaise about Daphne. She wondered if here, where Daphne was more popular and more attractive than "intriguing," Blaise had acted on those feelings.

As they got closer, Pansy noticed that something about Blaise had changed. It had only been two hours, probably less, since she talked to him in the common room, but his skin was visibly darker than it had been then. It still was not the same color it had been for all the years Pansy had known him, but it was about halfway there. No tanning charm in the world worked that quickly. Pansy, who had quite a bit of experience with tanning charms, estimated that it would have taken two days to obtain results like that. No, this had happened naturally, through exposure to Pansy. To see such a dramatic physical change disoriented her, and Pansy stood at the gargoyle, staring at Blaise.

When Blaise saw her, he smiled broadly. "Pansy! Can we talk?"

He walked closer to her, but Pansy inched away from him. She did not really think that he was dangerous or contagious; she was just overwhelmed. "About what?" she asked warily.

"About... I don't know, the weather, anything. Let's just talk."

Pansy met eyes with Daphne, whose face did not give away any emotion. "I don't think I can. I'm, uh- I'm a little busy. But we'll talk later, about anything you want."

Pansy did not bother to listen for Blaise's response. She walked away quickly. When she had spoken with Blaise in the Slytherin common room, she had wanted to tell him that she was going to fix everything, and she still intended to help him and all the others; she just had not been expecting this. She felt bad for leaving him hanging, but she just needed some time to breathe. It had, after all, been less than 36 hours since she stepped onto Platform 9 and ¾ to find her world torn apart.

It was not until Pansy got back to her room and stared at her drab walls that she saw the positives. It was all happening very quickly and that was a good thing. The quicker it happened, the quicker she could get back to her normal life, where she had no responsibilities beyond prefect duties.

All right, the world she came from was far from perfect. It was much darker than this one. The threat of the Dark Lord hung over everything. Professor Dumbledore was dead, and a Death Eater, the Dumbledore-killing Snape, had been named headmaster. Pansy had no idea what this school year should have held for her. As a Slytherin, it would not have been too terrible in the school itself. However, she had learned over her sixth year that being isolated from the true war was as terrifying as anything. She had not seen or heard from Draco since the night Dumbledore was killed, and she was prepared to spend seventh year worrying about him even more than she had during their sixth year.

In the world she was in now, on the other hand, everything was basically sweetness and light. Millicent and a few others were unhappy with their lot in life, but there would always be people who are unhappy, whose lives are unfair. There seemed to be a disproportionate amount of happy people here. Draco was happy. She did not have to worry about him at all. The Dark Lord was gone, and who knew if this dark presence was really anything to worry about? There would always be evil in the world, too. It was all so artificial, though. There was something sinister under the surface, and Pansy did not think it had anything to do with any dark presence. It was just wrong.

A knock at the door pulled Pansy out of her thoughts. She opened it to find Daphne in the hall. "I was hoping I could talk to you." After a second, she added, "About something specific."

Without saying a word, Pansy opened the door wider, and Daphne came in. She looked around the room. "Wow, and I was jealous that you had a private room."

Pansy's first instinct was to get defensive, but then she remembered that Daphne was the most normal person here and that she might be the one person who always remembered things as they had been. "Yeah, it's not so great."

Daphne sat on the bed, which was the only place there was to sit. "This isn't easy for me Pansy. I kinda know what happened here." There was a long pause, during which Pansy sat next to her. Then Daphne continued, "I know who did it."

Up until then, Pansy had not thought of this all being the fault of any one person. "Was it Moonshyne?" she asked.

Daphne shook her head. Pansy had not really thought so, even though Moonshyne was the most likely suspect. The way Daphne had treated her could have been a product of "I know your secret," but it had seemed more as if Daphne were truly ahead of Moonshyne in some hierarchy. After Moonshyne, the most logical people would be Zahara or Melpomene, but Zahara was being so helpful and Melpomene would have to be smarter than she was to pull off something like this. Besides, Pansy also had a Moonshyne/Melpomene interaction to refer back to, and Melpomene had definitely come across as lower than Moonshyne in this hierarchy.

"Who did it, then?"

"That's not important. It wasn't..." Daphne stopped. She looked Pansy in the eye. "He didn't mean for it to turn out like this. He had a plan; I don't know what it was. He won't tell me too many of the specifics, but it didn't work out the way he intended anyway. Through knowing him, I've come to remember much of what it was like before."

Pansy thought about what Daphne was saying. "So, did he create Moonshyne?"

"It is impossible to create a person out of nothing, but with a great deal of skill you can create a person out of very little. And that's what he did with Moonshyne."

The idea that a person cannot be created out of nothing made sense to Pansy, but she had no idea how a wizard could create a person out of very little either. Who could Daphne know with power like that? "So if he did all that, even to the point of fooling Dumbledore, he must be a genius or something."

"Oh, he is," Daphne gushed. "He is so much smarter than people give him credit for."

Pansy was starting to get the distinct impression that Daphne was in love with this mystery man. She tried to think about whom she had seen Daphne with, but the only males who came to mind were Blaise and Theodore. Both of them were actually smarter than most people knew, but Pansy rejected Blaise right away. Of all the changes she had seen in people, Blaise was one of the few who looked worse than before. Pansy supposed the mastermind could be Theodore, but was he really _that_ much smarter than everyone else? A professor was more likely, but none of the male faculty members had done much to instill confidence in their intelligence. On top of that, Pansy realized that she was assuming the mystery man was at Hogwarts, which was not a given.

Pansy decided to put all of that aside for the time being. "So, your connection with this guy, is that why you are among the few who do not kowtow to Moonshyne?"

Daphne barked with laughter. "I think that's a great test of character. Anyone who doesn't kowtow to her is worth hanging out with."

Pansy found it interesting that Daphne had not answered her question. "I heard rumors about a new dark presence. Could this guy and his plan have anything to do with that?"

"Yeah it was another nasty side effect. You know, nature abhors a vacuum, a power vacuum most of all."

Pansy noted that Daphne had not mentioned what any of the first side effect was. She was not sure that she should really think of Daphne as an adversary, but she could not help it. She did not know if it was due to the years of antagonism between the two, but she found herself analyzing every word Daphne was saying and looking for hidden meanings or slip-ups. "Does he know that you're talking to me?"

Daphne hesitated. "No, but I am going to tell him."

"_Why_ are you talking to me?"

Daphne took a deep breath. "I saw what happened to Blaise. I saw Draco's indecision last night. Because I'm the only other person who remembers, I'm the only one who knows what you did, that you did that. I don't think that other people even noticed Blaise's skin. Maybe it's because their minds have been implanted with these false memories and they just believe things instinctively. But I know that you noticed it. What did you say to him to cause that?"

Pansy shrugged. "I didn't really say anything to him. I just introduced myself."

"Well, then, whether you want to or not—and I'm sure you do—you are changing things back just by existing."

Pansy was confused. "So why would you want to help me if you're so close with the guy who did this?"

Daphne smirked. "Who says I'm helping you? I'm just explaining the situation, because I know it must be really confusing for you. I don't think there's anything you can do to help or hurt your cause. It just happens."

"Well, shouldn't you have talked to your mystery man beforehand, anyway? He might know a little bit more than you. And speaking of this guy, why did he get rid of me?"

Daphne shook her head. "I've never asked him."

"Not even when I showed up at the platform?"

The smirk returned to Daphne's face. "Not even then," she said, emphasizing every word.

Pansy realized that there was a big piece of information she was missing. The transfer students had shown up in the equivalent of her sixth year, but there had been changes to the timeline even before then. If Daphne could remember, and if this was all caused by one man, then this could not be a parallel universe that had always existed side by side with her own. That did not make any sense to her. There were two sixth years and two fifth years. How was that possible? "Let me ask you this--"

Daphne stood. "Sorry, Pansy, I'm done answering questions for tonight."

"Afraid you've revealed too much already?"

Daphne paused at the door, still smirking. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe you've revealed too much?"

She left before Pansy could respond. Pansy knew what Daphne had been trying to do at the end there. It was a classic mind game to create doubt in a person's mind. The thing was, even though Pansy knew that, it was effective. She could only be sure of one thing: Daphne knew exactly what had happened to turn the world upside down and she had some stake in protecting that secret.


	19. Days Pass

**Author's Note:** Um, sorry. That took longer than expected. I just have some real life stuff I'm dealing with.**  
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**Chapter 19—Days Pass**

Over the next few days, Pansy was paranoid. Even though she knew that she could not trust anything Daphne said, she mostly believed in this mystery man. The way the conversation in her room had ended had set a tone for their "friendship," but Pansy really wanted to hear more of what Daphne had to say. Unfortunately, Daphne kept putting her off, although she had not stopped staring at Pansy at random times during the day.

Pansy decided to make a list of all the people who had remembered her with a note about each one on what she knew about them. After she finished with that, she added Blaise and Ginny to the bottom of the list. Even though they had not remembered her or her family or anything about the way things had really gone, Blaise's skin had changed, and Ginny had called Harry "hot," which Pansy found unfathomable, but everything she could remember about Ginny told her it was in character for the girl. She noted both of these things next to their names.

In the library the next day, Pansy let Zahara look over the list. Zahara knew a lot more about what was going on that Pansy did. Still paranoid, Pansy was a little suspicious of Zahara, but she was being so very helpful, and Pansy did not think she could do this without her. Zahara had seemed genuinely surprised to hear about Daphne, but that could have all been part of the deception. For some reason, it was just easier for her to trust Zahara than it was to trust Daphne.

When Zahara had finished looking over the list, she nodded. "This is good."

Pansy whispered, so that she would not disturb anyone who was studying and so that Moonshyne, who was sitting not that far away, would not be able to overhear. "Zahara, you got cut off before you could tell me about this dark presence. What do you know?"

"I am afraid that I do not know much about this matter."

Pansy was about to ask how, if that was the case, Zahara could be so sure there was someone out there, but then she remembered that Daphne had already confirmed the existence of a dark presence, for what that was worth. "Do you think it could be Moonshyne?"

Zahara looked thoughtful. "I do not. She was the daughter of Voldemort, and evil is often succeeded by its destroyer, so she is a logical choice. But personally, I do not think it is she."

"Do you have any guesses as to who it could be?" Pansy asked.

"No," responded Zahara, and they sat in silence for a few moments.

As she sat there, Pansy looked around the library's study area. It was crowded with sixth and seventh year students, which would have been normal, but it was so early in the year. Her eyes finally settled on Moonshyne. She was sitting with Draco a few tables over, and she was hanging all over him. It was one of the most disgusting public displays of affection Pansy had ever seen. Pansy watched as Draco pried himself away. It seemed that he needed to find a book, and Moonshyne did not want to be away from him for that long. "We already have to spend all our classes apart," she pouted, holding onto Draco's wrist.

Draco pulled free and gave her an apologetic kiss. When he was gone, Pansy decided to say something. "You know, Moonshyne, Draco finds it really annoying when a girl is clingy," she said, loud enough that the people in the immediate area could hear her.

Pansy heard a snort of laughter come from behind her. She turned to find Sally-Anne Perks. "I'm sorry," Sally-Anne said. "It was just the irony of you telling someone not to be clingy."

Pansy knew that she had been clingy with Draco. That was how she knew that he found it so annoying. Still, Pansy might have been offended if she had not been distracted the fact that Sally-Anne had made a snarky comment. "That's quite all right," she said. She turned back to her parchment and added Sally-Anne's name under Ginny's. Moonshyne was muttering under her breath, but Pansy just ignored that.

Zahara looked at what she had written. "Really? She was always so nice."

"No." Pansy shook her finger. "She wasn't. This is really good. I wasn't even talking to her, and she changed back."

Zahara was excited. "Can you come to my Potions lesson and fix Professor Snape?"

Pansy would like nothing better than to "fix" Snape, but she did not see how that would work. "Er..., I don't think I'd be allowed to just sit in on a class."

"No," said Zahara. "It is not a class. I have private lessons with him because I am very bad at Potions. Tell him that you want to take remedial lessons, too. He will let you."

Pansy remembered the last time she had talked to the Potions Master. "Okay, but if he tries to touch me, I'm out of there."


	20. Remedial Potions

**Author's Note: **Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! This was a somewhat unplanned chapter. Obviously it was set up in the last chapter, but it's really a special chapter for people out there who wanted more Snape. (Especially namelessxfreak, who has been so supportive.)**  
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**Chapter 20—Remedial Potions**

Pansy could not help but be nervous as she walked the dungeon halls to Professor Snape's office. She had had a couple more classes with Professor d'Homme, and in that short time, she had experienced the lechery and inappropriateness of which the man was capable. According to Zahara, Professor Snape was worse. This perception could have been skewed, as the Runes professor did not like Zahara at all, and she had to meet with Snape alone in his office. When Pansy told Zahara she would leave if the professor tried to touch her, Zahara had responded that it would be a short lesson then. She then proceeded to regale Pansy with the list of creepy things Snape had said or done over the last year. It was a truly frightening list.

The fact of the matter was that no matter how much Pansy wanted to "fix" Snape, she did not really know what she was doing. It was still at the point where things were happening around her rather than because of any action on her part. As happy as she was to see Sally-Anne acting normally, she had not done anything to cause that. Yet there were many people who spent time talking to her and never even flickered back to their old selves. Pansy just had no control over these things.

She really wanted to hesitated at the door to Professor Snape's office, but Zahara opened it and pushed her into the office. Pansy had been in that office many times before. Things looked much the same, and it took Pansy several moments to notice the subtle differences. It took her even longer to notice the one major difference.

Where there used to be a wall, there was now a curtain. When Professor Snape emerged from behind that curtain, Pansy saw that it hid a small room containing a bed. It was a four poster bed covered in black silk or satin, and there was a scarf tied to one of the posts. Pansy did not know where Snape's quarters were. It was possible they had always been behind that wall; after all, the Slytherin common room was hidden behind one. And it was possible that Snape had always had a bed like that, but Pansy shuddered to think what that scarf implied.

"Good evening, Professor," Zahara said very pleasantly. "If it is all right, I brought along Pansy Parkinson for our lesson. She would like to learn more about Potions as well."

Snape smiled. "That's fine. Although, I must admit that I got the impression you had no interest in Potions, Pansy."

_Miss Parkinson_, Pansy wanted to correct. Her head of house had never called her by her first name, and this did not seem like a good time for him to start. Pansy also wanted to slap the smile off his face. That man never _smiled_; he smirked and gloated, but he did not go about grinning like an idiot. Just for a second, Pansy entertained the idea of doing these things and hoping that it would make him revert to the man she wanted him to be. She realized that treating people normally was not something she had tried up to this point. Unfortunately, it would be very rude to tell a professor not to call her by her first name, and she would never normally slap one, so these things were not options at this time.

She settled on saying, "Zahara spoke so highly of her lessons, I wanted to see what the fuss was about." Her companion glared at her, but Pansy ignored her. "In fact, all the students seem to respect you so much. I thought maybe it wasn't that Potions were dull, but that I'd had a bad professor at my other school." Every word she had said was a lie, and Pansy was not sure from where it had come.

Professor Snape, still smiling, took Pansy by the arm. She remembered her earlier vow to leave under such circumstances, but she decided to let this one thing pass. She really did want to fix him. He led her to his workspace. There were only two stools there initially, but with a wave of his wand, a third appeared.

Professor Snape took a seat on one of the stools. "Now, I believe you told me that you received an E on you Potion O.W.L., is that correct?"

Pansy nodded.

"Then I am afraid you are far above Zahara's level. She is absolutely hopeless at Potions. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Yes, sir." Behind the professor's back, Zahara wrinkled her nose and made a face. Pansy was not sure if it was because of the "dear" or the insult.

"Well," Pansy said, "I thought I would just observe today, and then later I could decide if it would be worth my taking private lessons." There was no way in hell Pansy would be alone with this version of her professor, but she forced herself to smile sweetly.

He was still smiling. "All right, then. We'll discuss that later."

After this, he beckoned Zahara forward and began the lesson. It was rather boring for Pansy. Professor Snape watched as Zahara made a simple potion and corrected her at every wrong turn. Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. It was not until later, when Zahara thanked her, that Pansy realized what she perceived as ordinary was good.


	21. Helena

**Disclaimer:** Not only do I not own Harry Potter; I do not own any works by Shakespeare either. Life is not fair.

**Author's Note**: Okay, if you aren't familiar with _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, that's fine. I was part of a production of it in high school, (I was tech.) so it's one of the few plays I know really well. Because I don't want to make anyone feel stupid. You don't have to read Shakespeare to be smart. Anyway, everything you need to know is explained.

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**Chapter 21—Helena**

Pansy and Zahara parted company in the dungeons. Zahara continued on to the stairway, and Pansy turned off toward the Slytherin common room. Pansy had not intended to go to the common room that afternoon, but she figured that since she was already in the dungeons, she might as well pop in and see Millicent or Blaise.

Blaise's appearance had basically returned back to normal, and he was very aware that this was because of Pansy. Although he still did not remember anything, he and Pansy had become fast friends, and she had every hope that soon a memory would break through.

Pansy entered the common room to find an unfortunately familiar sight, Draco reciting poetry to a basking Moonshyne. Pansy almost turned and walked out the door, but she caught eyes with Daphne. The girl acknowledged her and made her way to the doorway.

As Pansy waited, Draco's voice rang out. "The will of man is by his reason sway'd; and reason says you are the worthier maid."

"That's interesting," Daphne said, as she halted at Pansy's side. "Lysander said that to Helena after he had been drugged, and in the end, he meant none of it."

Pansy had no idea what Daphne was talking about, so she smiled and nodded. She supposed that was sort of interesting.

"He normally recites sonnets, you know." Pansy did not know that. "But that's from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"Is that supposed to be interesting, too?" Pansy instantly regretted saying this. She wanted Daphne to keep talking to her.

Daphne did not seem to take offense though. "Oh, I've forgotten how shallow you are. Obviously, you would not know anything of literature." She spoke the next part slowly, as if talking to an idiot. "Lysander is telling Helena that he loves her instead of Hermia, but it isn't true. You would be Hermia in this situation." She resumed talking normally. "Which is odd because I would consider your relationship more of a Helena/Demetrius thing."

Pansy had the distinct feeling that she should feel insulted, but she still had no idea what Daphne was talking about. "Is this why you came over here?"

Daphne took a deep breath, as though she regretted having to change the topic. "No. I've talked with my guy, and I'm willing—we're willing to tell you more."

"Oh," said Pansy. "That's great! Do you want to go to my room then?"

"Well, not particularly. It's on the fourth floor. Why don't we just go to one of the secluded catacombs down here?"

It was true that the dungeons were quite labyrinthine. Those corridors were most often used by young lovers having secret rendezvous, and for a moment Pansy balked at the idea, but then she realized that the other choice was to take Daphne to her bedroom, which would be just as intimate. Pansy decided that while she would still have to make the trek to the fourth floor, there was no point in dragging Daphne up there. "All right, then."

Pansy followed Daphne around twist and turns. Even though, she considered herself quite familiar with the corridors of the dungeons, Pansy was lost by the time Daphne stopped. Daphne sat on the hard, stone floor and motioned for Pansy to do the same.

After a slight hesitation, Pansy slid down the wall so that she was seated next to Daphne. She had so many questions to ask the girl, but she preferred to let Daphne open the conversation. "So, we're here."

"Right." Daphne sighed heavily. "What would you like to know?"

So much for letting Daphne go first. "Who is he?"

Daphne smiled and wagged her finger. "You know I can't tell you that."

"What was the plan?"

"I don't know exactly." Pansy scoffed. "Look, I'm not trying to put you off. If you would just ask a question I can answer, I would be happy to do so."

"Okay, so, you're telling me, then, that you never asked him what he was doing? Just tell me what you do know about the plan."

Daphne rolled her eyes, as though answering that question was more work than she wanted. She did not speak for a long time. Just as Pansy was sure that Daphne was ignoring the request, she said, "So, the Dark Lord is dead. He really, really is. How do you feel about that?"

Pansy hoped this was directly related to the plan. She knew what her answer had to be. The world would be set right, and the fall of the Dark Lord would not have happened, and everything would be normal. To a fellow Slytherin, Pansy would never reveal any ambivalence about supporting the Dark Lord. "I'm none too happy about it, actually."

Daphne did not seem to know what to make of that response. "Well,... why is that?"

"Daphne! Just get on with it. Was that the plan, to kill the Dark Lord?"

Daphne bit her lip. "Yes and no. The plan was to take his place, but the plan has gone to hell. The plan was to use Moonshyne as a figurehead. She's the new heir of Slytherin. But he can't control her."

"So she_is_ the new dark presence."

"No, no." Daphne snorted. "She knows nothing about that. He tried to go it alone, but it's just not working. That's why I need to protect his identity. And that's why I need to know how you feel about dark lords."

Thoughts raced through Pansy's head. "What are you offering me?"

"What?"

Pansy smirked. For the first time she truly believed she had the upper hand. "Come on, you clearly had an agenda here. You want me to help you. I don't know if you think I can neutralize Moonshyne or give him a clean slate, but you came here to negotiate with me for my talents. So go ahead. Lay your cards on the table."


	22. Negotiations

**Chapter 22—Negotiations**

Daphne stood. "You misunderstood completely. There is nothing you have to offer him."

Pansy was amused by Daphne's vehemence. "Oh, you really are in love with him, aren't you? Don't worry, I don't want to take your place as his Dark Lady."

Daphne looked taken aback. Her face stayed frozen in the look of shock, but, for just a moment, something else flashed in her eyes. She took a deep breath and put on a look of conflict. Pansy absolutely believed that this was put on, that Daphne was acting. She just was not sure how much of it was an act. "I'm not in love with him," Daphne said at last. "But you have to admit that it's quite impressive what he's done here. Anyway, I didn't really come here to negotiate, but what is it that you want?"

Pansy had never said that she wanted anything. She was not sure that Daphne or her mystery man could offer her anything worthwhile. "I want to talk to him directly."

Daphne shook her head. "That's not possible."

"Fine, but next time you talk to him, tell him that I want to meet with him face-to-face."

"I think he already knows that. What else do you want?"

"I also want to know why he got rid of me," Pansy said matter-of-factly.

Daphne sighed. "Honestly, it was not intentional."

"So, you do know what happened?"

Daphne blinked rapidly. "No... yes. Kind of. It wasn't intentional."

"I want to know how he did it."

She laughed. "He's not going to tell you that."

"I lived a sixth year. You remember it. And yet you also remember a sixth year here. And it was real, because that's when all the transfer students showed up. How can there be two sixth years?"

Daphne was quiet for a long time. "Do I?" she asked finally. "I don't think I remember another sixth year. I remember fifth year. I remember the Dark Lord coming back. I remember Sirius Black was killed and cleared. What happened sixth year?"

Pansy had never considered that Daphne's memory might be partial, so she really could not remember if Daphne had said anything that displayed knowledge of sixth year. "That's not the point. We were talking negotiations. You tell me what he wants from me and what he's willing to offer me."

Daphne sighed. "He wants your support. You have a gift. For whatever reason, you did not accompany the rest of us to this world, and that makes you special. He's not sure how he wants you to help him. There are a couple options." Every sentence was punctuated by a pause. "It seems to me, though, that the best option is for you to restore everyone's memory, and then let him start again."

Pansy was not sure how much Daphne's opinion counted. "And that is an option that he is considering?"

"Yes. The other option is to get rid of you, either kill you or send you away, and I just don't think you'll go for that."

For obvious reasons, Pansy transferred her wand from her pocket to her hand. "So he's going to be that kind of dark lord?"

"Is there a kind of dark lord who doesn't kill people? I think it's required to achieve a 'dark' label. But to answer your question, yes, he is perfectly willing to kill people who get in his way."

"If you aren't in love with him, where do you fit in with all this?"

"What do you mean?"

Daphne was looking nervous, and Pansy liked that. "Come on, through knowing him you've come to remember things? But nobody else has? Why did he let you in?"

Daphne scoffed. "Because... Dammit, that is a good question. Um, we share similar ideals."

Pansy now knew she was getting somewhere. "No. I don't believe that you just offered that information to someone in casual conversation."

"It wasn't a casual conversation."

"Really? Because there aren't a lot of people around here who are capable of deep thought."

"Well, he's not like the people around here."

"I meant you. Before he restored your faculties, weren't you as vapid and brainless as Tracey and Hermione?"

Daphne gave it some thought. "I guess I must have been."

"You don't remember? Dumbledore always seems to remember."

"So you are working with Dumbledore." Daphne latched onto this change of topic. "That's one of the things we wanted to discuss with you. What is it going to take for you not to cooperate with him?"

Pansy was torn. Before this year, she had never cared much for the headmaster. He had stolen away the house cup from Slytherin in her first year. He had hired a werewolf to teach them, not to mention that oaf Hagrid, who had almost gotten Draco killed. Up until this year, she had fully supported Draco's campaign to have Dumbledore sacked. Now she was getting to know him, and she finally saw that comforting and omnipotent side of him that people always praised. And that led to the real dilemma. Dumbledore was already dead in her world. She finally saw the value of the man, and it was too late. It seemed really wrong for her to hold out on Professor Dumbledore. Without her, he was a sad, useless man, but if she were to fix him, that would inevitably lead to his death. Of course, not fixing him had never really been an option.

Pansy did not necessarily have to make this decision just yet. She could string Daphne and her friend along for a while. It was not yet at the point that Pansy was scared of the new dark lord. She could stay away from Dumbledore until she had decided what to do.

"You said 'we.' 'We wanted to discuss that with you.' So where is he?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Pansy, I'm sorry, but you just can't meet him."

Pansy crossed her arms. "It's a dealbreaker."

Daphne made a noise of frustration. "You have no idea the position you are putting me in."

Pansy stood. "I have nothing else to say to either of you unless I can say it directly to him." She walked off, leaving Daphne gaping in her wake.


	23. Confrontation

**Chapter 23—Confrontation**

Storming off like that had been very dramatic, but Pansy had not thought it through. After a few blind turns, she realized that she did not have a clue where she was. She tried a true north spell, but that did not help her very much. She wandered the halls for what seemed like hours until she found a landmark she recognized. Once she was on the right track, it still took about another twenty minutes to make it to the stairway. The problem with the dungeons was that they only connected to the rest of the castle in one place. There were no shortcuts to be had until the person got to the main floor.

Pansy climbed the stairs wearily. It had not hit her until just then how emotionally draining this all was. She was so tired of Daphne's lies, half truths, and head games. She was so tired of the useless professors and the other people who were just wrong. She was just tired of being the only sane person. As soon as Pansy got back to her room, she went to bed and slept deeply until the sun shone through her tiny window.

When Pansy woke up in the morning, she did not feel particularly refreshed, but she did have a new idea. It was so obvious; she did not know why it had taken her so long to come up with it. If Daphne would not tell her who the mystery man was, maybe Moonshyne would. Pansy finally felt that she had gathered enough information to try to squeeze a little more out of Moonshyne.

So Pansy showered and dressed quickly and made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. However, when she got to the Slytherin table she saw that Moonshyne was slobbering all over Draco, which was not unusual, and she lost her nerve. She took her regular seat at the foot of the table with Millicent, deciding to wait for a more opportune time.

Pansy did not get the chance to corner Moonshyne alone for most of the day. After breakfast, she had classes, and then Hermione invited her to eat lunch at the Gryffindor table again. (Pansy was pleased to see that Melpomene was no longer considered part of the group.) Luckily, at supper Draco was missing in action, and Moonshyne left the Great Hall on her own. Seeing this, Pansy followed her out.

In all the time she had been waiting for the chance to talk to Moonshyne, Pansy had forgotten to plan out exactly what she want to say to her. So in order to get Moonshyne's attention, Pansy blurted out, "I know your secret, Moonshyne." It wasn't particularly clever, but it worked.

Moonshyne turned around, and then she smiled cruelly. "I know yours, too."

Pansy knew that she had the upper hand. "That's funny, I don't have any secrets. I'm from the real world; I'm not ashamed of that. I only keep it quiet to prevent the mass hysteria of discovering that their lives are lies." That did sound a little bit more clever to Pansy, but Moonshyne was unimpressed.

"This is a real world, Pansy." Moonshyne pushed her shoulder. "See? Solid."

"So, that's... that's it? That's all you have to say for yourself? I don't think you understand, Moonshyne. This fantasy world you're living in? It's very precarious."

Moonshyne was silent, and she was pouting, which Pansy thoroughly enjoyed seeing. Finally she said, "Melpomene told me about how you are always throwing yourself all over Draco. Is that what this is about?"

Pansy gave a wry chuckle. "No. It's not about Draco. You've turned the boy into a blithering sap. You can have Draco. This is about Professors Dumbledore and Snape, and it's about..." She struggle for other names than those Gryffindor idiots. "Sally-Anne."

Moonshyne started. "Sally-Anne? How... And what do you have against Severus, anyway?"

"Gah. That's what I'm talking about. He's not your Severus, or Tracey's 'Snapey-poo.'" Pansy had not believed her ears when her erstwhile friend had said those words. "The man has very little going for him, but the one thing he did have was dignity. He was a scary man, and I liked him a hell of a lot better like that."

Moonshyne was taken aback. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that Snape meant that much to you."

"It's not about Professor Snape, either!" Pansy was just so frustrated by this. How could Moonshyne not understand?

"But you just said--"

"It's my life! My _life_. Mine. You're not real, and so you don't have a life. You were created out of very little. That's what Daphne said. So--"

"Daphne! I knew it!" Moonshyne looked victorious, although Pansy could not imagine why. "I saw you with her, looking all chummy. And she wanted to write it off as though you had been friends and it was all very natural. But it's not natural, is it?"

Pansy tried to decipher what that even meant. "Are you upset with her for telling me? I thought she was--"

"No," she interrupted. "She is. Daphne is the one with all the power, and she never lets me forget it. But that does not mean that she has the right to go around talking about what they've done. I do have a life, okay. I have rights. She can't treat me like a second class citizen, like some science project she cooked up in the cellar!"

"Wait, Daphne has all the power? Daphne cooked you up? Are you saying Daphne's the mastermind?" Pansy realize too late that she should have bluffed and maybe Moonshyne would have let slip with whom Daphne was working.

Moonshyne's eyes went wide. "What? I didn't... What?"

"You said that _she_--"

"You tricked me." Moonshyne accused. "You pretended to know... This is not happening," she whined. She turned and hurried down the hall, muttering to herself the whole way.


	24. Distracted

**Chapter 24—Distracted**

Pansy watched Moonshyne leave, letting everything sink in. For a minute she considered confronting Daphne about what Moonshyne had said, but she quickly rejected the idea. Slowly, she headed in the opposite direction in order to return to her room. The thing about Daphne was she was a liar; that much was obvious. Pansy was never going to get the truth out of her. She considered this as she opened the door to her room.

When she saw Draco perched on her bed, all thoughts of Daphne disappeared. She absently wondered how he had gotten into her password protected room. Neither of them spoke. They just gazed at each other intensely.

Then, like a shot, Draco had crossed the room and was kissing her. Unlike the kiss in the Slytherin common room, this was raw and full of pressing need. Gone was the hesitation and soft touches. Finally, thought Pansy, finally here was a Draco she recognized.

And just as suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended. Draco pulled away, and his eyes locked on hers. He gave her a searching look that made Pansy want to shiver. He said her name, a little breathless.

He was still looking at her so intensely. It was a bit scary, but also exciting. "Yes?"

"The Yule Ball..."

Pansy gasped, but then it occurred to her that he might not have meant that the way she thought. "What about it?" she asked, feigning a casual tone.

"Don't you remember it? You were... there." Horror registered on his face. "My father!"

"What about your father?" Pansy prompted, no longer cool and collected.

"Was he... was he arrested?"

"Yes!" Pansy realized that the joy in her voice was inappropriate, but Draco was remembering!

He let go of her and sank dejectedly onto the bed. "The Dark Lord... I took the mark." He pulled back his sleeve frantically. "It's not there." He looked up with hope in his eyes. "It's not there. Maybe..."

But it was there. The mark was shimmering a little, as though it had been newly branded. Pansy was worried about him. "Draco," she said slowly. "Can't you see it?"

Draco seemed not to hear her. "Maybe you're wrong. Maybe none of that stuff actually happened."

Pansy sat next to him on the bed. Gingerly, she circled the mark with her finger. "It happened, Draco. You have the mark to prove it."

Draco looked so miserable as he returned his gaze to his arm. Pansy thought she actually saw the light extinguish in his eyes when he finally saw the mark. It physically hurt her to see him in this pain. Pansy had a moment of doubt. Maybe he had been better off not knowing. Having lived it, she had not quite realized how horrible the truth would seem when it all came rushing back in one sweep.

"What else do you remember?" Surely there had been good things too, good memories that he had been denied.

He shook his head sadly. For a horrible moment, she thought he was going to cry, but he didn't. Instead he said, "You. I remember meeting you, kissing you, loving you." He jumped up. "Who _are_ you? What did you do to me?"

"I'm Pansy," she said calmly.

He sat down, pacified. "I know that. So my father's really in Azkaban then?"

"Well, no, not anymore. He got out over this last summer."

"Why would they let him out?"

Pansy bit her lip. "I don't really know the details. Strings were pulled." She shrugged. "I don't know if it was a bribe or if the Dark Lord facilitated it because he was happy with your results."

"My...? But I didn't... I didn't..." He shook his head repeating the words over and over.

His sleeve was still pulled back and she could see the mark. It seemed to glow in the dim light. Now she was going to have to hurt him again. "You did," she said quietly.

"No, no, I didn't even have... There wasn't time." His breathing grew ragged. "It's seventh year. I don't remember sixth year." His eyes filled with tears. "I killed him."

"Killed him? Wait, Draco--"

"No!" He pushed her away. "I don't want to remember anymore."

"But you didn't kill anyone."

Draco rubbed his forehead. "I must have. There is only one thing I could have done to make him happy. Those were the conditions. My father would only get out of prison if I succeeded. I didn't tell you that. I remember deciding not to." He took a deep breath. "My mission was to kill--"

"Dumbledore, right? You didn't kill him, Draco." She smiled, glad to see that she was getting through to him. "I didn't know that was what you were supposed to do, or I would have told you."

Draco sighed heavily. "Was he killed though?" 

"Well, yes, but--"

"Then you just didn't know it was me. That's what I did to please the Dark Lord."

"No, listen to me, Draco. It wasn't you! It was Professor Snape. Snape killed him. Please, Draco, please remember."

Draco stood and paced with an intense look on his face, as though he was really making an effort to remember. Pansy watched him go back and forth for several minutes. Finally, he stopped and turned to her. "This is what I remember. On the train, Potter's stupid cronies turned me into a slug."

"Right, that was the end of fifth year."

"Yes." He waved his hand dismissively. "And my father had been sent to Azkaban because... Because the Dark Lord did not die that night, my mother's cousin did. The Dark Lord was revealed that night. I was determined to join the fight, take my father's place. My mother..." Draco drew in a shuddering breath. "She forbade me, but I told Aunt Bellatrix, and she took me to see him. That was when he told me what he wanted me to do and what the conditions were. And then he gave me the mark, and it didn't feel like it was my choice anymore. But I came up with a plan. I went to Borgin and Burkes. I... And then it was time to go back to school. And when I got to Platform 9 and ¾... Moonshyne was there. And Ginny. I was dating Ginny, but over the summer Moonshyne and I had... But we hadn't."

Pansy remembered that Daphne had claimed not to remember sixth year, but Daphne was a liar. Still Draco seemed to have a very firm mental block. There were two sixth years. Pansy didn't know how that worked, but there were. Instead of explaining that to Draco, she said, "Goddammit, I lived a sixth year! It was real; you were there."

Draco sat next to her on the bed. "Well, what happened sixth year?"

Pansy growled, frustrated. "I can't tell you. I think it's important for you to remember on your own. All I can say is that I know for a fact that you did not kill Dumbledore."

Draco was quiet for a moment. "Who is Moonshyne?"

"I'm trying to figure that out. She's... not real. You remember that, right? She appeared out of nowhere when you started sixth year."

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember that. Kind of."

Just then Pansy noticed something. Draco was no longer on the verge of tears; he no longer had that horrified look on his face. He was same old Draco again. _Old _Draco, being the operative words. The arrogance in his eyes was back, and even though he was sitting, Pansy could swear that she could see the swagger. After everything he had remembered, after his entire world had been turned upside down, after she had taken away everything good in his life, Draco looked happier than she had seen him since she crossed into this crazy world.


	25. Abusing the Privilege

**Authors Note:** Okay, at my heart, I'm just a big, squishy D/P fan. But for those of you who like strong, independent Pansy, don't worry, she hasn't gone anywhere.**  
**

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**Chapter 25—Abusing the Privilege**

Faced with her old, happy Draco, Pansy decided to try something. "You know, Draco, I'm really sorry. I forced you to remember those things, and I know that it was a bleak world. You were probably happier not knowing. I'm sorry."

"Are you kidding? I wish you'd told me sooner. Okay, it's not good. I don't know what happened in sixth year, but I'm sure it was horrible. But I remember fifth year, and fourth year." He paused. "And if I have to face all those horrors, I'm..." He trailed off.

"You're what?"

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm glad I have you by my side," he said quickly, as if trying to get the sentimental portion of the evening out of the way.

"Well, things seem to be going well for you and Moonshyne. After all, I've never inspired you to poetry recitation," she teased.

Draco cringed. "That's right. Oh, Pansy, no. Please never mention the poetry again."

"No," she said, enjoying herself, "it was sweet. You were comparing her to a midsummer's day or something. You must really love her."

Draco grew thoughtful. "I told her that. I thought I did. It was like... it was like I was under a spell. Do you think it was a love potion?"

Pansy grew more serious. "I think it was a lot more complicated than that. It wasn't your fault, though; you were just..." In that moment, Pansy thought about things that had never crossed her mind before. This was not real, so it didn't matter. In her mind, Draco's relationship with Moonshyne was not real, so she never thought of what it entailed beyond the poetry. "What had you done over the summer?"

"What? I... the plan. I told you. I took the mark."

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "What had you done with Moonshyne that you hadn't really, but probably have since."

"Oh." He did not say anything more than that, but all the guilt was contained in that one little syllable.

Pansy supposed the fact that he sounded guilty should mean something, but it failed to provide her any solace. "So, for over a year, you and Moonshyne have been... intimate?"

"You know, Pansy, I never told you this," he said, in what she recognized as a valiant effort to change the subject, "but I really do care for you. I don't love you, but... That didn't come out right. I'm not at the point where what I feel for you is love, but I always thought that someday I could. And I should have told you that before now."

She made a decision. "Then do it to me."

"Do... what to you?" He looked so confused.

"Physically express your someday love for me in the same way you expressed your 'love' for Moonshyne."

"Well, yeah. Obviously I intend to."

"Now," Pansy said. "You..." It was difficult for her to say the words. "...had sex with her! And you did it to her in sixth year, and you didn't do it to me in the real sixth year."

"You're serious."

"Yeah."

"Er, no." He gave a little chuckle and repeat his "no."

Pansy was stunned. "Why not?"

"Look, Pansy, I'm sorry that I didn't have sex with you in sixth year. I was probably preoccupied what with trying to kill someone, and I'm sure I wanted to. But you can't just demand that I have sex with you."

"I'm sorry, but it seems to me that most guys would have no problem having sex with a girl they supposedly cared about while in a private room when they've been giving it up all over school to some green-headed harlot who--"

"That's a good point," Draco interrupted. "And I love it when you're shrill, but really, Pansy, I'm not feeling it tonight."

Pansy was speechless. "What? How can you...?" Her words disintegrated into sounds. "Wh... Nn- I... Bu... K-kk-tch. I-kk" She got stuck on the K's for some reason. She didn't even know what word that was supposed to be. She stop herself and finally formed the coherent sentence: "I don't understand."

"I don't understand what you don't understand. No. I don't want to have sex with you right now. Someday."

"Someday?" Pansy shook her head. "I don't want to hear any more about someday. I can't wait anymore, Draco. I can't stand knowing that you did that with her when we haven't even gone beyond under the shirt action." She was quiet for a few moments. "I've put up with a lot, Draco. You owe me this."

Pansy stood and unbuttoned her uniform top. She stopped with that. She was not going to force him to do anything, but she was going to make him want this. Draco sucked in a sharply, and his eyes were locked on her chest. Even though his hand had slipped under that bra during a number of snogging sessions, he had never actually seen Pansy with out a shirt on. "What's it going to be, Draco?" she asked.

"You don't understand the pressure you're putting on me," he said, still not looking her in the eye.

The temptation she saw in his face appeased Pansy. She realized in that moment that she had made the decision to lose her virginity a little too hastily. All she really wanted was to see that she could have this effect on Draco. She prepared to tell him so, to alleviate the pressure. She started to rebutton the shirt.

This was not a popular decision. "Whoa, there's no need to do that."

Pansy held her hands up, startled by his reaction. "I think you were right, though. I let my jealousy of Moonshyne... make me crazy or something. We should... Someday sounds fine."

Draco stood and wrapped his arms around her, purposefully pushing open her shirt. "I can't... perform under those conditions, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun." He nuzzled her neck.


	26. Horrifying Discovery

**Author's Note:** I know. I'm sorry. I have two excuses and one justification for why I haven't posted, but you don't care about that.**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 26—Horrifying Discovery**

Pansy awoke to the sound of pounding on her door. She looked around and realized that Draco had stayed the night. Both of them were shirtless, but Pansy was still wearing her bra, and from the waist down no articles of clothing had been removed with the exception of shoes. She sat up groggily, ready to deal with the commotion at the door.

"I know he's in there, Pansy. Let me in!"

Recognizing Moonshyne's voice, Pansy fell back against the pillow. Beside her, Draco stirred. Suddenly, he sat straight up and looked terrified and guilty. Pansy saw the same look of conflict he always got when faced with both Moonshyne and Pansy. "Let me put on a shirt," she said, sighing. "Then I'll let your girlfriend in."

Pansy picked up Draco's shirt from the floor and put it on. She did this on purpose. Let Moonshyne draw whatever conclusions she wanted. She opened the door and was almost knocked over by Moonshyne rushing to Draco's side. "Oh, Draco. What did she do to you?"

_Come on, Draco,_ Pansy thought. _Don't revert back. Remember._ She stared hard at him repeating the word remember. For his part, Draco still looked very confused.

"How did you know I was here?" he finally asked.

Pansy fought the urge to smirk. He hadn't apologized; there were no pleas for her to forgive him this transgression. That had to be a good sign.

"I... Well, when I couldn't find you, I asked around, and Daphne said... that you might be here. She said she'd seen you talking."

Pansy shook her head. The only place she talked to Draco that night had been in her room. She eyed her bathroom suspiciously, briefly entertaining the idea that Daphne had spied on her. She dismissed that thought and replaced it with the notion that Daphne was just trying to upset Moonshyne and might have just had a lucky guess. This reminded her of the conversation she had with Moonshyne the night before and the conclusion she had reached. "Daphne is a liar. Why would you listen to her?"

Moonshyne turned to face Pansy, surprised by her sudden outburst. "But she was right. He was here. You did try to steal my boyfriend."

Pansy considered saying that she had him first, that Moonshyne had stolen her boyfriend. Then she wanted to point out that Moonshyne had stolen Ginny boyfriend in this twisted world. Then she had to literally bite her tongue to stop herself from saying, "Once a cheater, always a cheater." The thing was she really didn't want to get into any of that with Moonshyne. "Draco, why don't you deal with this?"

"Yes," Moonshyne said. "I'd really just like the opportunity to talk with Draco about his indiscretion alone."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." There was no way Pansy would leave Moonshyne alone with Draco in her bedroom. Mostly this was because she thought there was a slight chance that he would revert, beg Moonshyne to take him back, and have sex with her on Pansy bed. And then Pansy would have to kill someone. Also, she really did want to hear what Draco was going to say.

"I don't know what's going on," Draco said. "This is all really confusing right now. I can't... I can't really remember what's real."

Moonshyne shot Pansy a look, and her eyes flashed. Pansy just rolled her eyes. Moonshyne turned back to Draco. "I knew it. She's been filling you head with lies about some fantasy world. Daphne warned me about this. She's deranged, Draco. What did she tell you?"

"She told me about the Yule Ball. I went with her." He paused. "I guess."

Moonshyne spoke calmly. "That's ridiculous. You went to the ball with Ginny. You know, your girlfriend at the time. You remember that, don't you?"

Draco nodded slowly. "Yes. I was... Ginny was my girlfriend. She was who... She was... Longbottom?" He turned to Pansy. "Didn't she go with that idiot Longbottom?"

Before Pansy could speak, Moonshyne yelled, "No! She went with you." Her voice was no longer calm. It was now full of barely contained rage.

Draco paid little attention to her. He just squinted his eyes and shook his head.

"Draco, please tell me that you aren't falling for this woman's lies! Nothing she told you is true. She's been manipulating you."

Pansy chuckled with indignation. "I'm not the one who lied and manipulated."

Moonshyne narrowed her eyes. "Yes, you are." She turned back to Draco. "Yes, she is."

"If that true though, how do you explain this?" He showed her his arm, with the dark mark emblazoned upon it.

Moonshyne stared at his arm for a long time. "You were a Death Eater?" she said at last.

"Apparently," Draco said matter-of-factly.

Moonshyne turned to Pansy with a helpless look upon her face. "She didn't tell me he was a Death Eater. This isn't my fault, Pansy." She started to cry. It honestly scared Pansy. "Don't you see? She set all of this up. She wants me to be evil, but I'm not. I'm not."

Pansy exchanged a look with Draco. He seemed just as confused as she was. "Who are you talking about?" he asked.

"I don't want to do this anymore. You can tell her." She shook her head vehemently. "I didn't know he was a Death Eater. Oh god, were you in on this? You're just like her, aren't you? You get off on torturing me! Well, you can have him; I hope you're very happy together. I don't want to be a Slytherin anymore!" She ran from the room.

Pansy sunk next to Draco on the bed. They both sat there in silence for a couple minutes. "Well," Draco said, startling Pansy. "That was dramatic. What was she talking about?"

"I don't exactly know." She stripped out of his shirt and handed it back to him. "But I'm going to find out. Er, I need to shower and dress, and you should probably get on to breakfast or something."

"Pansy." Draco discarded the shirt so that he could turn her head and look deep in her eyes. "I want to be in the loop. I want to know what's going on."

Pansy almost relented, but no. What could he do anyway? As far as she was concerned Draco lacked the subtlety to deal with Daphne. "I'll let you know when I know," she said noncommittally.

She could tell he was angry with her for not telling him what she knew. "You know, I know things, too. I was here, and I know Moonshyne. So if you don't want to work together, that's fine. I'll figure it out on my own."

Pansy wanted to laugh. He sounded like a petulant child. Besides, it was very unlikely that he would figure anything out. "But you don't even know who the sadistic 'she' is."

He shrugged. "I'll ask Moonshyne."

"The Moonshyne you just cheated on? Because I don't think she's that inclined to help you. As mad as she is, she has incentive to keep the secret. Trust me on that."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "You've changed. I thought we were partners in this."

"I have changed. While you were here, where everything is sweetness and light, and you were shagging your girlfriend, things were really bad sixth year. And over the summer they got a lot worse. When you remember, you'll understand. Besides, you're not Draco yet. If you can tell me what happened sixth year, I will tell you everything I know. But not a second before that."

Draco snatched up his shirt and stormed out. He was still angry, but Pansy found it difficult to care. She had more pressing problems, and she knew exactly where she wanted to start.

* * *


	27. Second Nature

**Author's Note: **So, here's the thing, I have really bad writer's block. (And all the TV shows are coming back from hiatus.) So, I'm doing the best I can. Please be patient with me.

* * *

**Chapter 27—Second Nature**

Pansy quickly got ready, then she rushed to the Gryffindor Tower to find Hermione. This Hermione routinely skipped breakfast as she was constantly "watching her weight." Pansy knocked on the portrait, which the Fat Lady did _not_ like at all. She waited for someone to answer while the Fat Lady muttered about how she had stood guard there for hundreds of years and had never encountered a more inconsiderate twit, and the nerve of some girls. Eventually, Hermione did open the portrait hole and, delighted, invited Pansy inside.

Hermione ushered her into a seat. "Oh my god, I was just thinking how I haven't seen Pansy in, like, _forever_! And here you are!"

"Right. We ate lunch together yesterday." Hermione opened her mouth, her face shining with perkiness, and Pansy decided to cut her off early. "It's not important. Listen, I need your help with something. I have to do some library research, and I was hoping you would come with me."

"Really? Me? I'm not really good at that kind of stuff." Hermione twirled her slick, polished hair around her finger. "Maybe you should ask someone else."

Pansy took her by the hand and pulled her toward the entrance. "I think you'll do. It's probably a lot easier than you realize."

Hermione followed her obediently. They walked in silence down three flights of stairs. The whole while Pansy was trying to exude reality from her body, which was just as hard as it sounds. It had never really worked that way before. In fact, it had always been pretty random when people returned to their former selves. That didn't stop Pansy from trying though.

"So," Hermione said as they walked into the library. "What are you researching?"

Pansy bit her lip. "Actually, I need to find out everything there is to know about Daphne Greengrass. Including her family history, pets, everything." The problem was Pansy had no idea where to start.

Hermione looked a little confused by this quest, but apparently she decided not to ask any questions. "Okay, well, I guess we should start at the card catalog."

Pansy had not known that there was a card catalog, nor did she know exactly what one was. Whenever she had done research in the past, she had just used the sources listed in her textbooks' indexes. "Right, no, obviously. Er, lead the way."

Hermione happily headed toward a... large wooden dresser. It looked hideously complicated, but Hermione just started uttering spells and suddenly slips of paper were flying from the drawers. Pansy assumed these were the infamous cards. Hermione handed over a stack. "These are all the books about Greengrasses or written by Greengrasses." Then she handed Pansy one last card. "I would start with this one on genealogy, so that you can determine her relationship to each of these. Then you'll know which books are more relevant. God, this is fun!"

It had finally worked; she had turned someone back out of sheer will. Or it was a happy coincidence. Maybe it was bringing Hermione back to her natural habitat that had done it. All Pansy knew was that if she played her cards right, Hermione might end up doing all the research for her. "Would you like to help me find this book?"

Hermione snatched the card from Pansy's hand and jogged to the stacks on the west wall. Pansy had trouble keeping up, and before she even got there, Hermione was heading back with the book tucked under her arm.

An hour later, Hermione had laid all the cards out in a web that correlated to the one they found in the genealogy book. There were no books about Daphne, which did not come as a surprise, but there were two books that referenced her father. Unfortunately, they were both in the Restricted Section. "Now what?" Pansy asked.

Hermione shrugged. "We could try talking to Madam Pince. She's kinda nice."

Pansy did not know if that was another change that had occurred, or if it was really that Hermione was so studious that the librarian actually was nice to her under normal circumstances. She followed Hermione up to Madam Pince's desk.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, we were wondering if we could look at a book in the Restricted Section."

The librarian looked down at them, as hard-faced and cruel as always. "I don't think so."

"Please," Hermione pleaded. "It's not for us; it's for Moonshyne. She's fallen awfully ill, and she couldn't come down here to get the book for herself. But you see, she _really_ needs it."

Pansy tried to pretend she wasn't in shock, but honestly, who knew Hermione Granger was capable of such manipulation.

Madam Pince squinted her eyes. "You tell me what book it is and I'll get it for your friend."

Hermione looked down at the top card in her hand. "_Unspeakable Deeds_ by Anonymous. Here's the card." She handed it over to the woman.

With a "humph," Pince was off to the Restricted Section. "I can't believe that worked," Pansy whispered.

"Yeah, no one ever refuses Moonshyne anything. It's kind of weird. Oh, and I'm sorry I was only able to get the one book."

"No." Pansy waved her hand. "That's better than nothing. So, _Unspeakable Deeds_? I wonder what he did."

"He's probably an Unspeakable," Hermione said as if it was the most obvious conclusion to draw. "All the books that really deal with Unspeakable studies are restricted. No one but other Unspeakables are really supposed to see them."

Right, well now that Hermione said it, it did seem rather obvious. Pansy tried not to let her embarrassment show. The librarian was coming back now with a large, shiny book in tow.

She laid it in Hermione's hands and glared at Pansy. "Be sure to take this straight to Moonshyne," she said. She turned her back on them without another word.

Hermione started walking as though in a trace. She held the book gingerly. "Do you have any idea what's in this book? The kind of knowledge at our fingertips. Oh, Pansy,..." She glanced at her companion. "Pansy?" she said, confused.

Oddly enough, Pansy had actually forgotten that she and Hermione were not really friends. Any second now, Hermione might really remember things, the way Draco had, and then she would leave, probably taking the book with her. "I just need to know what it says about Daphne's father, and then you can read it to your heart's content."

"Right." Hermione looked down at the book again. "Well, we can't read it here because we told Pince it was for Moonshyne."

"My room's just down the hall," Pansy said. She was eager to get on with it, although she could not be sure that this book would hold any answers about Daphne.

Hermione followed Pansy to the room and took a seat on the bed. Then she opened the book with awe. Her eyes scanned the table of contents, hungrily taking in every word.

"There's an entire chapter here about him. It's one of the last ones." Hermione pointed. "Chapter 79: Greengrass and Fausnight." She turned to the starting page.

"In modern day, there are two Unspeakables who stand out among the rest," Hermione read aloud. "Orpheus Greengrass and Morgana Fausnight have been partners in the Department of Mysteries since their days in training. Unlike most of the other great Unspeakable of yesteryear, Greengrass and Fausnight have worked in several fields within the realm of Unspeakable mysteries. In the past twenty years, their greatest contributions have been in the fields of Time, Brainpower, and Prophesy, specifically as each relates to the subfield of Memory. Recently they have also turned their attention to the subject of Death."

This was clicking in Pansy's brain. "Is there any more about Memory?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione responded. "Apparently they are the first Unspeakables to make major advancements in the field since the 18th century. And they aren't just famous in England. It says that internationally, they are considered the greatest Unspeakables living today."

"Wow," said Pansy. "That's..." Her awe lessened. "It's revisionist history, isn't it? Snape is nice, and you're a vapid twit, and Daphne's father is the greatest man to every grace England with his citizenship. Still... that has to mean something, right?"

"I am not a twit," Hermione said indignantly. She grabbed up the book and marched out of the room. Pansy did not even bother to call for her to stop. It did not matter anyway. A few more details on Mr. Greengrass's work with Memory would have been nice, but all the pieces were there, and she was ready to talk to Daphne.

* * *

**Another (Nostalgic) Author's Note: **Remember real card catalogs? Am I old? Because I totally do. Everything was computerized by the time I was nine or ten, but I first learned to how to find books by using wooden cabinets with drawers. And if you did too, I hope this chapter takes you back to that time the way it does for me. If you didn't, that part might have been weird for you.


	28. Pressing Matters

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for the wait, but it did actually take me this long to write the chapter. (Or fix the chapter as the case may be.)

* * *

**Chapter 28—Pressing Matters**

It was well into the afternoon when Hermione left Pansy alone in her room. They had spent the whole day in the library doing research, skipping lunch as well as breakfast. Pansy was starving, but she was also full of energy. She wanted to confront Daphne right then, and she spent several minutes sitting on her bed debating how much longer she could go without food.

Pansy wondered what confronting Daphne with her lies would actually accomplish. Did she expect Daphne to blurt out the whole truth just because she was faced with some facts? Then Pansy wondered if this new development really even meant that Daphne was a liar after all. She thought back on her conversation with Moonshyne.

Finally, Pansy got tired of sitting around. She did not want to wait any longer to find out what Daphne would say. Besides, she figured she could probably technically go several days without food and not die. So her stomach would ache a little longer. Seeing Daphne was important too.

The problem with that was Pansy wanted to have the book at her side for such a confrontation, so she slowly climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. After a very short wait, she was let inside. There, Hermione was sitting at one of the tables, her eyes riveted to the book. Pansy walked straight over to her.

"I still need that book, Hermione. You can have it when I'm done."

Hermione paid her very little notice. She only murmured a response and went on with her reading.

Pansy sighed and sat down across from Hermione at the table. "Really, this is important. I need to show the book to Daphne and ask her some questions. And then I will bring it right back."

Hermione glanced up at her. "And why should I trust you, Parkinson? After all the nasty things you've done to me?

Pansy gaped at her. "Oh, now you remember. When it was finally convenient for me to be your friend."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you need the book for anyway? What are you and Daphne planning to do?"

Pansy thought out what she should say. It all hinged on one important question. "What do you remember?"

"I remember everything, Pansy. Every nasty comment you've made, every--"

"No. Not what you remember about me. What do you remember about everything else?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them again. "I told you. I remember everything. And if you're going to tell me that you did this, all I can say is that I really doubt you're smart enough to pull it off."

Pansy decided to let the insult slide, since she actually was not smart enough to pull it off. "I didn't do it. This is important though. Do you remember sixth year?"

"Of course, I remember," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "That's when everything went wrong."

Pansy sighed again. "I didn't do this, but that book will help me figure out who did."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think that I could figure it out better than you ever could. Why not leave the book with me? And what does Daphne have to do with anything?"

"Oh, come on, Hermione, somebody did it. What do you think Daphne has to do with it?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Daphne? How did she do it?"

"Give me the book, and I'll find out."

Hermione looked suspiciously at Pansy, but she handed over the book without a word. Pansy took it and walked out of the common room.

As she made the trek down to the dungeons Pansy wondered how the Gryffindors could get used to all the stairs. They had to come down seven flights of stairs every morning for breakfast and, even worse, climb seven flights of stairs every night after supper. Not only that, but the staircases moved around, too. Pansy's staircase came to rest at a place on the second floor with no way down. So she walked along the corridor to find another staircase.

Just as she was walking by the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office and hoping that she would not see the headmaster that night, the gargoyle jumped aside, startling her. A handsome man walked out of the new opening..

In the same way she had recognized Trampy despite her looking nothing like the Tracey Davis of the past, she knew that the stunning man standing before was Sirius Black despite the fact that he in no way resembled the photographs she had seen in the Daily Prophet. The man was flawless, just like almost everyone else in this crazy world, and his sudden appearance in the corridor momentarily distracted Pansy from her quest to confront Daphne. She cursed herself for this when Professor Dumbledore appeared in the hallway behind Black.

"Miss Parkinson." The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Actually, I was just passing by. I'm on my way to supper." Pansy repeated the mantra _Please let me go_ over and over in her head.

Dumbledore gave her a searching look for a few moments, then turned to his guest. "Oh, have you met Sirius Black? He has just agreed to become the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for next year."

It had been a week since her last conversation with Dumbledore, although it felt like much longer. She remembered at the time she had planned to continue her visits and help him come back from the brink of senility. That was before Daphne had come to Pansy and told her maddening lies. Pansy did not have the patience for fake, useless Dumbledore anymore. She would have greeted Sirius Black and been on her way, if it were not for one thing. Something in his twinkling eyes told Pansy that the headmaster wanted her to challenge this appointment.

"Sir, I'm not quite sure how he could be qualified to teach anything, since he spent most of his adult life in prison." After a beat she added, "Although, I guess he's more qualified than the squib we have teaching it now."

Sirius Black stood like a statue, completely unaffected by Pansy criticism. He did not seem aware of his surroundings at all. Professor Dumbledore did not smile at her, but he did nod. He unfolded his hands from behind his back, and Pansy gasped when she saw that one of them had turned black.

"Miss Parkinson, I would like you to join me in my office, so that we may discuss this." He gestured toward his dead hand.


	29. The Key

**Author's Note: ** Tomorrow I start a three week vacation. I don't know if or when I'll have internet access, or how much time I'll have for writing. So, this is probably it for a few weeks. I'm sorry that I've become so unreliable.

* * *

**Chapter 29—The Key**

Pansy followed Professor Dumbledore up the stairs to his office, all thoughts of Daphne and supper gone from her mind. She remembered that his hand had been blackened for all of her sixth year, but she had never known why. But it did not happen until sixth year, she thought, and she was happy for a moment until she realized that it had probably actually happened the summer before, and Draco had already remembered that.

Once they got to the office, Pansy sat in a chair and set her book on her lap. "Professor, I'm sorry. I don't know anything about your hand. I mean, I remember it, but that's all."

Dumbledore sat back against the edge of his desk. "Very well." He was silent for a few moments. "Did you say that Professor Figg is a squib?"

"Well, that's just a rumor I heard. But I'm know for a fact that Mr. Black was in Azkaban for around twelve years. Why are you hiring a replacement Defence professor so early in the year, anyway? We're barely more than a week into fall term."

Dumbledore smiled. "Is that right? The first Quidditch match is this weekend and that normally happens in early November."

This confused Pansy a great deal. "I have definitely only been here for a week."

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

Dumbledore fell silent again, and Pansy wondered what she was even doing there. She did not have any more information for him. "Sir, maybe I should go."

He shook his head. "No, not at all. Your presence helps me think. Have you had this effect on anyone else?"

"Er, well, yes. Blaise Zabini... returned to normal physically, and Hermione Granger claims that she remembers everything up to sixth year. Nobody remembers sixth year. Oh, except for Zahara and Melpomene. I think they know what happened."

Dumbledore looked at his hand. "I'll explore that option later, but as for now, I think I have a better idea as to who can help me. Would you mind coming with me?"

Pansy did mind a little. She was starving, and she really wanted to talk to Daphne. As far as she could tell, her presence may be necessary, but Dumbledore would have little other use for her. "No, sir, it's fine," she said, resigned.

When they left the office, Sirius Black was gone. "Did you... Are you still going to hire Mr. Black?" she asked.

"No, I'm afraid that is no longer an option. Tell me, have you come across any other persons who should be dead but aren't?"

Pansy looked up at the headmaster, and she wanted to laugh. "No," she lied. "Is he dead now?"

"Yes. Or if he isn't, he will be soon," he said gravely. "The world is righting itself, and I don't know how long that will take in his case." The news saddened Pansy. Even though she had not known the man and he had in actuality died over a year before, she felt responsible in some way. It did not seem to matter in that moment that he was supposed to be dead. He had been cleared of the murders, he was going to get a job as a professor, and he was going to fall in love with Melpomene, at least according to her. Pansy stopped herself from asking the headmaster if he had been happy. She reminded herself firmly that she did not know him, and she never would. There was no reason for her to care more about his death now than she had at the time.

Professor Dumbledore's pace increased, and to Pansy's dismay, he started up the stairs. "Sir, may I ask where we are going?"

He did not look back at her, and she realized that Sirius Black's death was sure to be affecting him even more than it had her. "We are going to see Harry Potter."

Pansy groaned. "Why?"

The headmaster paused on the steps. He turned to face her. "Because since even before he was born, Harry Potter has been the key to everything. With you nearby, he may start to remember, and that would be a very good thing for everyone. You will have to be there, and that means we will have to put a great deal of trust in you. Do you think you can be trusted?"

Pansy felt that she should feel affronted, that this was just a stereotyping of Slytherins as untrustworthy, but she did have a boyfriend who had taken the mark, so she had trouble mustering up indignation. She stood there in silence, mostly thinking about her shortcomings. That question had turned out to be difficult.

It must have taken her too long to respond, because Dumbledore asked her another question. "Do you know why I chose you to be a prefect, Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy was at once happy that he had remembered and nervous to hear the answer. She had assumed at the time that it was because of her natural leadership abilities, but now she was having doubts about that. The more she thought about it, Daphne did seem to be a better choice, other than the whole trying to take over the world thing, which did actually demonstrate leadership. "No, sir."

"It was because I have faith in you. I don't want to stereotype, because I have known great people to come from Slytherin, but ambition can lead you down a dark path. I probably should not say this, but I believe that you, more than Miss Greengrass or Miss Perks, are capable of resisting that. Now, I have no choice but to trust you, because I don't know what Mr. Potter will say." His eyes pierced hers. "And I believe that you will be worthy of it, as long as you want to be worthy of my trust."

In that moment, Pansy wanted nothing more in her life than to someone that Professor Dumbledore could trust. As she followed him up the stairs, she marveled at his ability to instill that kind of feeling. Unfortunately, if everything went as she expected, he also would soon be dead again.


	30. Back in Gryffindor Tower

**Chapter 30—Back in Gryffindor Tower**

With one flight of stairs left to go, Professor Dumbledore mentioned the book Pansy was carrying. She had not really thought much about it before, but now she realized that this was a restricted book that she should not technically have. Not wanting to get anyone in trouble with the details, herself least of all, Pansy responded vaguely. "Yes, it's very interesting."

Pansy worried that he was going to press the issue, but he just nodded in a knowing way and proceeded up the stairs. Pansy watched as the fat lady stood aside for the headmaster.

In the common room, Hermione was huddled in the corner with Ron and Harry. "But just think about it, Ron," Pansy heard Hermione say. "How could your father possibly be a Death Eater? Why would we be friends?"

Professor Dumbledore interrupted the conversation before Ron could answer. "Mr. Potter, may I please have a word with you?"

Pansy stood back a little from the group. As far as she could tell, Harry was happy to leave his friends to their fighting. Ron barely acknowledged Harry's leaving. "I don't know, Hermione. Why don't you just tell me since you always have all the answers?"

"You're not Death Eaters!" Hermione said, exasperated.

Harry and Dumledore had already passed her, but Pansy was engrossed in the conversation before her. Would Hermione, in remembering herself, now be able to make others remember? "If I'm not a Death Eater, how do you explain the mark?"

Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and pushed up his sleeve. "What mark?" she asked.

Ron looked down. "Hmm. Maybe I'm not, then." Hermione nodded in a satisfied way.

Pansy was still interested to find out what happened next, but Professor Dumbledore had come back for her. He took a hold of her arm and led her to the hallway where Harry was waiting.

"Now, Harry, this is very important," Dumbledore said. "Do you know this girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, she sat with us on the train."

"Okay, Miss Parkinson, will you please talk to Harry?"

Pansy's jaw dropped open. "Me?"

"Yes, it occurs to me now that it may be better for you to do the talking." He emphasized the word 'better.'

Pansy had no idea what to say. This had never been part of the plan. "Harry, I wanted to talk to you about..." She spoke very slowly, hoping something would come to her, but nothing did. "Fifth year," she said finally.

Harry shrugged again. "What about it?"

With no script to follow, Pansy decided to just go for it. She leaned close, trying to maximize her ability to make him recall. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened in the Ministry of Magic that year."

"A bunch of us went there because we knew that Voldemort--" Pansy cringed at the name. "--was going to be there. Or no, we _thought_ that... _I _thought that Sirius..." He shook his head as if to clear it. "And Moonshyne was dueling with Voldemort, and he was... It wasn't his fault; Bellatrix just got in a lucky curse, and even then... Did I say Bellatrix?"

From what Pansy could recall, it seemed to her that he was remembering things the correct way. Or at least, he was starting to. "It was Bellatrix, though, wasn't it?" she prompted.

"No. Why would Bellatrix kill... him?" Horror registered on his face, but he did not say another word.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Pansy would not let herself grieve for Sirius Black, and she would not let herself believe that Draco was happier without her, but in that moment, she could not stop herself from feeling sympathy for the boy she had hated for so long. She had taken Sirius away from him, and she hated herself for causing such pain.

Harry took several deep breaths and wiped his eyes with his arm. "I don't think I wanted to remember that."

"You have to remember. Because if You-Know-Who didn't die that night, then he's still out there."

Harry gave a mirthless laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Why would you care?"

"I care because I know the truth. I know what happened, and up until two minutes ago, you didn't. Hardly anyone does, and that's really odd."

"Does he know?" Harry gestured toward the headmaster.

"Yeah," Pansy said. "He started to remember when I got here."

"No." Harry leaned in close and whispered, "Does he know that he's supposed to be dead, too?"


	31. Mutually Beneficial

**Chapter 31—Mutually Beneficial**

Pansy gaped at Harry. No one had remembered sixth year, and now, with hardly any prompting, Harry had. "No, he doesn't know that."

She glanced over to where the headmaster was standing, thinking that surely he would want to know whatever it was that he did not know. However, Professor Dumbledore was staring ahead, unseeing, much as Sirius Black had before he returned to death. She rushed over to his side. As much as she had tried to prepare herself for this, Pansy was not ready to see the man dead. She shook his arm, and Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie. Pansy almost cried out with relief. "Oh, I must have dozed off there for a moment," he said.

When she looked back at Harry, he was lost in his own daze. He wrote in the air with his finger as if trying to do a complicated Arithmancy problem in his head. Pansy turned back to the headmaster. "Sir, he remembers sixth year. Just like that." She stopped him before he respond to this good news. "And the thing is, you remember how I said on the first night that it would be best for you to remember things on your own?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "I suppose that does still hold true. I will leave you two to have your talk then, but remember, Miss Parkinson, I am counting on you."

Pansy almost had shivers as he walked away. It seemed odd to her, but she felt so strongly that she did not want to let Professor Dumbledore down. She wondered again what it was about him that he was able to make her feel this way. It struck her that it might be as simple as that no one else had ever counted on her for anything. She felt important and needed for the first time, and it was an intoxicating feeling, but it also felt like a heavy weight on her shoulders. She wondered if this was how Harry Potter felt all the time.

She forced herself to focus, for there was now a task at hand. Professor Dumbledore had had a point when he said that Harry Potter was the key to everything. If the headmaster thought that she needed Harry to help her, then she would try to go about it that way.

Harry had already started toward the portrait. Pansy stopped him by grabbing his arm with both of her hands, dropping her book in the process. "There's more that we need to discuss."

"Er, right. No offense, Pansy, but I don't really want to discuss this with you." He tried to pull his arm away from her, but she held tight. "Really, I need to figure out what is going on here, and I--"

"I know what's going on. Or I at least have a fairly good idea. I realize that you usually go to Hermione for all the heavy thinking, but she's not the same as she was then. In fact, Hermione gave me that book--" She gestured toward it. "--to help me solve this problem. Dumbledore brought me here because I was the one who could make you remember. All the people you rely on for help have come to me. So..." Here Pansy ran out of steam, and she let go of his arm. "You have to talk to me."

Harry smiled wearily. "I don't believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

She did not really blame him for that. "These are facts that you can check up on. Hermione will confirm all of it. One,--" She held up a finger. "--I was never part of this crazy world. So I am the only one who really remembers everything, without be tainted by the false memories. Two,--" Another finger shot up. "--no one else remembers sixth year. If you ask Hermione about something that really happened in the Non-Moonshyne world, she won't remember it. Dumbledore doesn't know that he died because his memory stops at the end of the summer before."

"Those may be facts. I do know that you weren't here during the Moonshyne years, so I understand that you don't have this conflicting dual memory. And that might help you stay clear headed. And maybe no one remembers sixth year with Slughorn and the Death Eater attack, which your boyfriend masterminded, by the way. But so what? How does any of that mean that you are going to help me?"

"I don't exist in this world. My parents are just gone. Maybe you can understand how difficult that might be to deal with. My boyfriend, who I admit did do that, doesn't remember me, but he does remember having sex with Moonshyne. And probably Ginny, too."

Harry's face turned red. "Ginny would never--"

"Your Ginny wouldn't. But in this world, she did date Draco, right? And she doesn't have dual memories; she just remembers that. Maybe they don't have any false memories of having sex with each other, but when I talked to her, she was still in love with him. I think you'd rather if she was still in love with you. We can make that happen."

Harry walked to the portrait, then walked back. Shaking a finger in her face, he started to say something, but he stopped himself. Finally he said, "You are playing on my emotions like a serpent in the garden, but that's just another reason not to trust you."

Pansy had no idea what garden he was talking about. "You don't exactly have to trust me. But if you just come with me, you can learn things for yourself. What could possibly be wrong with that?"

Harry looked at her with suspicion for a long time. "I heard everything you said, but I'm still confused about the whys. Why me, first of all?"

Pansy considered giving him the short answer, that it was all Dumbledore's idea, but that would not help matters. She was used to telling people what they wanted to hear, to saying whatever it took to expedite matters, but now she felt the need to be really open and honest with Harry because it seemed like he would know otherwise. "Okay, but you have to really listen to me. Before... I went straight from the summer to here. I mean, I didn't go to limbo or anything; it was all quite linear. Things were normal and then they were really messed up. And whatever goals or agendas I had then, they're not important now. However I feel about the Dark Lord, it doesn't make any difference on the fact that he has not been defeated. I want my life back, and you want your life back. So, we can both get what we want and go back to living our lives.

"But that doesn't answer why you. I came here tonight because Dumbledore dragged me here. I was supposed to help him stay lucid, because I have that affect on people. But then he sprung it on me that I was going to do all the talking, and that's... I did it for him, but then you remembered. No one remembers. Even the people who do, they don't remember sixth year. Dumbledore said you were special, and I guess he was right. But I'm not going to tell you what I know and let you go off to solve this with your merry band, like how it always happens. I'm part of this. We need each other, Harry. And that's all the answers I have about why."

Harry still looked suspicious. "Maybe. I'll go along with you for now, but I'm going to tell Ron and Hermione about this."

"That's fine. Hermione has been invaluable to me." Pansy could not believe she was saying that. "But right now, she's in there getting Ron back to himself." She picked the book up from the floor. "So while they're doing that, we'll go to the Slytherin common room and talk to Daphne."

"Why Daphne?"

Pansy took a deep breath. "I'll explain on the way."


	32. Lion in the Serpents' Den

**Chapter 32—Lion in the Serpents' Den**

Pansy would have liked to confront Daphne alone. First of all, it felt wrong to sell out her housemate to Harry Potter. She felt that this was better handled internally. Gryffindors did not understand the Slytherin mindset. Secondly, Harry's presence would affect Daphne's candor. If she lied to Pansy, she certainly was going to lie when faced with Harry Potter. Harry had not left Pansy much of a choice though. If she wanted him to cooperate with her, she was going to have to play all her cards. If he felt that she was holding back on him, he might get skittish. While Pansy had not quite been convinced that she needed him, despite what she may have said to him, she did not want him pulling away from her, just in case.

On the way, Pansy did not feel like explaining everything to Harry. It would have taken too long, and she would have had to endure his questions. She just laid down the foundation about Daphne's claims to know the mastermind, mentioned the chapter about Mr. Greengrass, and told him to draw his own conclusions from their impending conversation. It was better to leave him with facts rather than opinions.

Pansy stopped at the wall that served as a barrier to the Slytherin common room. She looked pointedly at Harry, but he just stood there, clueless. "Could you maybe go down the hall a little bit?"

"No. Did anyone make you go down the hall when they brought you to our common room?"

Pansy sighed. This was going to be the worst partnership ever. She whispered the password, trying her best not to let Harry hear. No matter what, it seemed completely inappropriate for him to learn the password. After all, they had them for a reason. Harry laughed at the futility of her attempt.

Pansy found Daphne exactly where she expected to. She was sitting in the Slytherin common room, talking with Draco. When Draco looked up and saw Harry, he jumped to his feet. "What is_ he_ doing here?"

Pansy knew that it was folly bringing Harry Potter into the common room and was forming a response that would concede that point, but Moonshyne spoke first. "He's here for me."

Harry shot Pansy a look of disgust. "No, Moonshyne."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I was so wrong to leave you. I don't care if you're sulky, at least you're not evil."

Moonshyne was making a spectacle of herself. Pansy looked around the room and found that Harry was not the only one looking disgusted. Moonshyne used to command the room every time she spoke, but now she was just losing it. Pansy felt a little sorry for the girl, but only a little.

Moonshyne threw her arms around Harry's neck and tried to kiss him, but he pulled away. "That's not why I'm here." He gently pushed her away. "I actually don't know why I'm here."

"Are you with her?" Moonshyne's voice went shrill, and she turned to face her adversary. "I swear, Pansy, I will kill you with my bare hands."

Pansy held up her hands. "He's here for Daphne." Moonshyne calmed down, and looked like a wounded animal. Pansy dropped her voice. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, but you don't belong here. This world, it can't sustain both of us. You can do what you want, but we're going to talk to Daphne."

Stunned, Moonshyne did not try to stop Pansy as she walked over to Daphne. Harry followed. "Who _is_ Moonshyne?" he whispered.

"I'll explain later." She walked up to Daphne. "Can we talk to you outside?"

Daphne considered this in her lazy, know-it-all way. "Okay, I'm intrigued." She led the way out of the common room. Instead of going into the maze of catacombs, she led them to a classroom. She sat at one of the tables and asked, "So, what's with the tag-along kid?"

Pansy ignored her. "I know who your mystery man is."

Daphne's smile did not fade at all, but as her eyes darted from Pansy to Harry and back again, it became fixed. "That's impossible."

During their walk down to the dungeons, Pansy had dogeared the book at the beginning of the chapter about Daphne's father. There was a picture of him with his partner. She placed the book on the table and turned to that page. "It's him."

Harry stood in the corner with his arms crossed, looking quite formidable, and to his credit, he was letting Pansy do the talking.

Daphne leaned over and stared at the picture for a few moments. Then she turned the book back to the cover. "How did you get this book?" she asked.

"I checked it out of the library."

Daphne opened the book to the picture of her father. "There's a reason why they're called Unspeakables. My father never told me about his work. Never." She started to read the chapter. "Internationally, they are considered the greatest Unspeakables alive today," she murmured. "I never knew that." She broke out of her reverie. "I'm going to let you in on a secret. There never was a mystery man. My father is not involved."

"Nice try, but Moonshyne said that you had a partner. She specially referred to what 'they've' done."

"Morgana--" Daphne tapped the woman's picture and addressed Harry. "--was not as tight-lipped with her family. I learned about their work from her daughter."

"Fausnight?" Pansy asked. "I don't know anyone named Fausnight. Why should I believe anything you say now?"

"You'll believe it when you find out who her daughter is. Fausnight was Morgana's maiden name. She went back to it when she got divorced from her husband, Jacob."

Pansy put her palm to her forehead. "Why must you always be so vague? Husband Jacob? The only Jacob I can think of is... Oh."

"Yes," Daphne said. "The mastermind, the one who came up with the entire plan, is everyone's favorite Hufflepuff, Sally-Anne Perks."


	33. Hufflepuff By Choice

**Author's Note: ** I never intended to still be writing this a year later. I'm having some problems working things out, and unfortunately, I'm starting grad school next week. I'll do my best to keep this story going, but I'm sorry if it takes me a long time between updates. (As it has in the past.)

* * *

**Chapter 33—Hufflepuff by Choice**

Pansy did not want to believe anything that Daphne said, but it made sense. Of every single person in that school, Sally-Anne was the most underestimated. She was the kind of manipulative person who would stab anyone in the back to get what she wanted. On the other hand, that was just a figure of speech. Pansy had trouble believing that Sally-Anne would actually kill anyone.

"You said it was a him."

"I lied," Daphne said lazily.

"Or you're lying now to protect your father. Are you saying that Sally-Anne knows how to create a person out of very little? Where would she learn that?"

Daphne looked at Harry. "Why are we discussing this in front of Harry Potter? When I asked you not to go to Dumbledore, I didn't mean for you to go get help from him of all people. We could have worked something out. Look, I get that I should have been honest with you from the start, and I understand that you don't trust me, but we are Slytherins. I can't believe you got him involved."

Harry shook his head and tsked. "You didn't answer her question."

Pansy was a little impressed with Harry. She had not told him about Moonshyne, so he had no way of knowing what that "creating a person out of very little" bit was about, but, to his credit, he did not look confused at all. He rather looked like he knew exactly what they were talking about. "He has a point there."

Now Daphne was definitely getting a little bothered, which Pansy greatly enjoyed seeing. "She learned it from her mother. Your turn."

"Well, you're right. You should have been honest with me from the beginning. I still don't really have any reason to believe that you picked now to start telling the truth. And of course I went to Dumbledore. I'm sorry if you ever got the impression that I wasn't going to. I want my life back, which is something you never listed as an option." As an afterthought, she added, "Harry remembers sixth year."

"Oh, really?" Daphne laughed. "I find that hard to believe. I mean you had sex with Draco, and he still doesn't remember it."

Pansy felt her face turning red. "I didn't--" She turned to address Harry. "I did not have sex with him. That's just... ridiculous." She shook her head and spoke to Daphne once again. "And Harry does remember sixth year. You can ask him about anything."

Daphne widened her eyes. "Okay. Harry, why is it so important to Pansy that you know she didn't have sex with Draco?"

Pansy mouth fell open. "Not that. You can ask him about anything that happened during sixth year. And it's not important-- I really resent--"

Daphne cut her off, looking so, so smug again. "Fine, what do you 'remember,' Harry?" She put air quotes around the word.

Harry was not affected by the innuendo at all. "I was in the tower with Dumbledore when Snape killed him. Draco was supposed to do it, but he couldn't. He's a Death Eater." Daphne did not looked impressed, so Harry continued. "Do you really think Pansy would tell me that? Implicate Draco like that?"

"Maybe she was counting on that. Or maybe Moonshyne told you, because she was recently traumatized by the discovery."

"Ron dated Lavender. Hermione went to a Slug Club party with Cormac McSomething to make him jealous. Romilda Vane tried to give me a love potion, but Ron ate the chocolate that contained it instead, and he almost died drinking poisoned mead, which was courtesy of Draco. Oh, and there was the bracelet that almost killed Katie Bell. Draco did that, too. I don't think Moonshyne knows about any of that. She wasn't there."

Pansy had not actually known that Draco had done any of those things. She had only recently discovered that he was supposed to kill Dumbledore. She did not want to hear any more. "Why would I put all that effort into having Harry Potter help me? Obviously he remembers on his own. Can we talk about Sally-Anne now?"

Daphne sighed. "I can't tell you anything."

"Can't or won't?" Harry asked.

Daphne quirked a little smile. "Well, I certainly won't tell _you_ anything about Dark Lords and their evil plans."

Pansy was determined to get answers out of Daphne. "All of this assumes that we believe Sally-Anne was behind the whole thing. It seems to me that being in Hufflepuff means that she was one of the people who got screwed in this thing."

"Sally-Anne wanted to be a Hufflepuff. She's hiding there for exactly the reason you just said. She's a behind the scenes kind of..." Daphne seemed at a loss for the right word. "Mastermind," she finally said.

"If she's the mastermind, what are you?" Harry asked. "Her enforcer?"

Daphne laughed and shook her head. "I haven't enforced anything. I'm more of a go-between if anything."

"She's only saying that because you're here," Pansy said to Harry. "Normally, she would be eager to brag about everything she'd done."

Daphne leaned back in her chair. "Pansy, we both know that's not true. I've never taken credit for anything."

As Pansy thought about it, that was true. "Really? So when you were fawning over the intelligence this all took, that was Sally-Anne's brilliance that you were so impressed with?" Daphne started to speak, but Pansy continued. "Never mind. That's not important. I'm still not convinced that Sally-Anne is involved at all. She is the least Hufflepuffy person I have ever met."

"Exactly. She's a hundred percent Slytherin. That's why you should believe that she would do this."

"No, that's why I don't believe that she would ever subject herself to living with those people and acting like one of them."

Harry scoffed. "Do you think that you are better than them? Hufflepuffs are good people."

Pansy sat down beside Daphne. "Ignore him.

Daphne smiled. "I'm feeling ganged up on. Why don't we go talk to Sally-Anne so that this is at least two on two."

Pansy had a feeling that Daphne was up to something. That smile said everything. Still, as much as she might hate it, this was Daphne's show. "Harry's killed better dark lords than you," she said by way of reminder.

Daphne laughed. "Actually Harry hasn't killed anyone." After looking at Harry's raised eyebrows, Daphne's smile faded. "Have you?"

Harry did not respond to the question. "Let's go talk to Sally-Anne."


End file.
